Okay, okay, so this is gonna sound crazy, but it's a true story. Two Novembers ago I found myself shopping for no reason in a store that was way too expensive. Sometimes the urge to soothe the self-loathing Sundays with retail therapy overtakes and I am powerless against her demands. So, recognizing I wasn't purchasing something of purpose, I was merely filling the gap, I took it down a notch. After perusing the mounted deer head painted white and the ironically scratchy sweaters, I stumbled across a teeny $12 motivational soap dish. Huh, it was the cheapest thing in the whole store so I bought it. Proudly purchasing my soap dish I was happy also extremely happy I had put make-up on and was wearing my vintage glasses since unwittingly, I'd landed smack-bang in hipster haven. Swinging my brown paper bag out of this teeny boutique, I remember forgetting what I'd even bought until I unwrapped it at home. A motivational moment each time I wash my hands. A single solitary action and meditation matched in the single serving size of washing your hands. Didn't seem like anything so special, until I realized it was.
Having a motto, a plan, a strategy, a safe word. Affirming yourself. Every self help Schmoe hosting a weekend seminar is spewing catch phrases to live happily. People are begging to be happy. People are blogging to be happy. There are groups of people who don't know how to be happy. People fighting for the joy they were banking on. Multitudes of folks who don't know how to be themselves and need to be taught by a stranger. When will we understand why these people wanting so badly to be happy can't be? When does sadness become a national health concern? The one thing they've got going for them is they know they can be better, happier and they hope to be saner. Ah, hope, happiness and sanity: the trifecta.
There's a reason that self help is so popular. You are just the right self to help you out. But flip a coin and I agree the mumbo jumbo is no bull. Knowing that each time I wash my hands I affirm myself. I pledge to lead by example. To be brave and true. That's a big assignment. That's a lot to ask of myself but the soap dish commands it. It continues to demand excellence. Every day my soap dish holds me accountable. My superficial purchase that was to be devoid of meaning actually became the mantra behind my initiative to change. Of course there were other factors: thank you Momma, Papa B, Hubby, BFF, Bucy & Bean for all your support and snuggles. But honestly, I think it really was the soap dish:)
It's easier said than done. You know how I know that? I've said a lot, and it never gets done. I am a logical thinker. The straight line, the path of least resistance, the straight and narrow. Growing up I always thought I knew better. Watching the poor decisions of others, I could predict the situation outcome. Not only did I think I knew better than my friends, but I knew better than my Parents and every other adult. Did I actually know better than any of them? Probably not, actually, I know for a fact that I didn't and still don't know best. Because if I did, I would be able to say it and then do it. Plus nobody likes the know it all, just watch any movie set in a classroom, recognize the know-it-all? She doesn't have many allies- unless it's test day.
Over the last year I have come to realize that getting things done is a complex 7 piece puzzle. Now, you may say, Melicious, 7 piece puzzles are for kids. Well, this 7 piece life puzzle is a challenge on the clearest, happiest and most balanced of days and not even attemptable on the dark, hazy lonely afternoons trapped in your own mind. You see these pieces change shape. They never fit together the same way. It's not a puzzle you can memorize. And each Let's Do This! puzzle is the same 7 pieces in a different configuration. There is a pieces for saying you want it done, actually wanting to do it, planning to do it. There's a piece that organizes and one that initiates. And a piece for actually doing it. Oh and the last puzzle piece is the one that keeps you doing it, because nothing gets done and stays done without a bit of tenacity. The important parts of solving a puzzle with ever changing pieces is knowing that it will always be a new experience and new outcome plus discovering new things you didn't know you didn't know. Be warned there is no picture on the front of the life goal puzzle box.
So, may I suggest that all this talk is getting us know-where? See what I did there?*insert coy wink. There are so many things people want and feel they deserve, demanding their ideal outcome but when it comes down to being a wo-man of action, they may fall short. Refusing to see the obstacles standing between an off-handed marathon remark and standing at the finish line puffing with the satisfaction of a job well done. If getting what you wanted was easy we'd have it already. If the universe was just going to take care of us we wouldn't have the drive to change, to improve, to excel. There is nothing shameful in being the know it all, the brown-noser, the tryer or the eager beaver, as long as you know it will take a lot more than you know, to get what you want. It will take all 7 of those puzzle pieces to build the picture you want to be.
Note: Life Puzzle for ages 15+ But everyone should try at least once.
Okay, okay, that's a made up word. But it has an implied meaning; so even though you've never heard it before you understand it. Which is a strange way to think of language but it's a great way to think about communication. Aww, you know what I mean. How many times a day do you hear someone say that? And you do know what they mean, somehow your brain makes the call. Having collected all the crucial communication information. The speaker, the topic and the time. These factors clean up sloppy lines of communication. So, let the conversation satisfication begin.
While spending some much needed time kissing tha'Babe, I couldn't help but see how little talking was required for me to understand exactly what she meant. Most of the time it was just small talk, but I would think that's even harder for an 8 month old. As we grow up we forget how to communicate on the basic human level. Please don't take this to mean we should start crying, throwing things and screaming to get our points across-though for some of us it's too late. Instead consider that a wink and smile can go a long way in all languages.
With instant communication at our fingertips. We are infinitely connected and all within arms reach. These little devices being constantly forgotten, causing heart attacks and anxiety. Most of us suffering from a severe case of the where is it?Oh there it is. Phew-itis. It's hard to comprehend how we could loose track of how important and special those names, places and photos really are. I remember the social calls. The teenage hour long conversations. The ringing doorbell. The playdates. And the Sunday check-ins. In my pocket I have all the information I could ever want. Dates, times and events all collected in one tiny hand held horcrux; communicating has never been easier. Though the digital siren's call is a tough one to ignore. It is my goal to put down my fruity apendage and really stay connected. And even if I can't peel it off; I will never underestimate the power of a smile. Now, that's what I call satisfication. Oh, you know what I mean.
Willowing in the darkness that daylight savings brings
Hibernation drawing nearer
The hours and days gliding by on tracks, preventing diversion
Eliminating adventure, restricting exploration
Temperamental weather covering the hard pan dirt
Packed down into pathways
Wrapping us in single servings of loneliness
The darkness highlights the breath escaping warmed bodies
Visible in the early darkness
Streetlights haloed in the mists of nightfall
A tight hunched stance to protect from the elements
Pink cheeks burnt with the bite of another screaming wind
Warm noses chilled with the icy touch of bitterness
Leaves left and gone, given up
Tired from the effort of holding on
Finding comfort in the comforter
Wringing with the near winter chill
Hot chocolate ringing my dear's darkest ills
The winter's pill swallowed for another long season
Sleep's long fingers inviting
Beckoning, bleating
Their wooly warmth fleeting
Shadows and shivers stretching along our length
Savings with nothing to bank
A necessary lightness withheld
Unsprung and undercover we wait
Lured by the comfort of our love
Warmth wishing us well for another long hazy winter
Tucked sweetly in the loving arms of Mother Nature
Awaiting the sweet gentle bounce of green bursting through brown and grey
The spring of another celebratory summer waiting to unwrap us gently
But for now the long winter's embrace enfolds us
A chilling reminder of summer's quick step
We wait, ever patient, we'll wait
There is a group of people who shine. They've got that certain something. That intangible spark. The X Factor. The Voice. They are a gangplank walking, chicken skin giving group. Overflowing with that very special something that sets them apart from the herd. The unique flare; a thing that people want to look at, talk about, dream about, drool over, wonder at, remember and cry over. It's hard to describe what makes a person a superstar, but I am willing to bet, it has something to do with three easily identifiable markers. And the unlikely combination created within that Shinning star. Creating a chemical reaction worth watching.
Talent- These are the people you can't stop watching. The people who sing the doors off- Whitney, Celine. Or the way Ansel Adams can make you feel thirsty. In this group we have dancers, writers, actors. Daniel Day's dedication to lifestyle immersion. They are the fireworks. They burn so beautifully bright. Typically they burn hard and fast. Streaking across the sky. Just catching them in the corner of your eye is lucky.
Confidence- Maybe it's the Cee Lo Green variety. Perhaps it's the confidence that Christina has in those mini skirts. It's that strut the angels have when they're telling secrets. The way a lead singer makes eyes at the camera. It's the stance. The swagger. It's shivering and sparkling. All the Bam Bam, all deliciously wrapped with a tiny little bow.
Personality- It's the distinctive late night gap toothed laugh. Then it's about creating a catch phrase. It's Farah Fawcett's blonde fringe. Monroe and Chaplin with their distinctive walks. Andy Warhol painting an iconic eye. The breathy vulnerability heard from the blues. It's the devil in their eyes. Unexpected punchlines. The suspenders and heart shaped glasses. It's a big floppy straw hat and pink boots.
The things that make you go boom. As a performer I fall into 1.75 of these categories. My personality is a solid 8.5, my confidence hovers between 6-8 and my talent varies greatly from passing to fancy. It plays into my favour that I am tenacious with a side of lazy. The good news is I am starting to know where I am going as a clear destination. I won't stop, cuz I can't stop. I am figuring out what it takes to make myself someone that burns brightly. A show must go on type of girl. I am on the road to giving goose flesh. They say knowledge is power and I am learning quite a bit about this crazy place and this even crazier business. But I don't think I'll ever stop lookin' at the stars.
If you got a problem yo I'll solve it. If you have a gap I can fill it. I am your go to gal for all things great and small. Writer's cramp? I will massage it. Strained emotion? I will decompress it. If you need something it's quite likely I can do it, or at the very least I know someone who can get it for you. I am a great Sidekick, a keen Girl Friday, a worthy friend and a diabolical adversary. I am that girl.
All my life I have been an avid learner. I've always wanted to figure out the world around me. My interest in teaching myself knick-knack-knowledge makes me an invaluable font of information- both useful or useless. I know so many useless facts, formulas and theories that I've been accused of memorizing MindTrap- a card game designed to encourage lateral thinking. I am good with puzzles, especially word games. If you like trivia, I am your gal. If you want to beat someone at trivia- I am even more your girl. But what I am the best at is getting things done.
I am not your typical enforcer. I am a suggestion based outcome manipulator. I have perfected the communication of ideas to the point where others actually believe these ideas were their own. Which can be good and grotesque in equal parts. Lucky folks get to experience things the way I have predicted to be best, but it also means I am held responsible when things go off track. Having people believe that my suggestion are their own idea, has my clients taking all the credit. And as good as I am at most things- sharing is not on that list. Who in the Frak is Sharon?!? With that in mind, have you got a problem to be dealt with? Perhaps you've got a mystery in need of solving. I am a excellent fixer. Though I charge by the hour plus expenses- including disguises :)
Procrastination, complacency and a short attention span. Have you ever met someone who just wasn't quite reaching their potential? Someone with great ideas and no follow through. Maybe a talented loved one who won't take a chance on themselves. The uncertified baby yoga instructor who doesn't want to spend the time for certification. A close friend who's holding themselves back from the successes they could attain. The biggest difference between success and complacency is actually doing it. And the hardest part of doing anything? Is doing it. It's no accident that some people succeed, contrarywise, it's no coincidence that others fail.
My fear of failing myself (or the standard to which I hold myself) has garnered me a semi popular blog, super amazing awesome wicked friends, a matching set of under eye baggage, a loving Hubby, a pair of saddle bags and the satisfaction of a job done- not always particulairly well, but I am completing my tasks and I am continuously challenging myself. With persistent motivation, I am like a dog with a blog. I have recognized how varied and difficult my goals are and I am confident that my stamina will be recognized- fingers crossed. Even if it is just by my Momma. I've decided that I am unhappy being anything less than the person I want people to see me as. Keeping it together is hard work, I am tired, but everything, good or bad, comes at a price.
Working in an artistic arena I have had oppurtunity to meet all types of creative people. Key root of the word being create. But within the ranks of the creative there are people who sabotage themselves and others, for fear they will be left behind. Writers who've never reached a climax. Dancers who don't stretch themselves. People who fall short of their potential. Playing it safe because the fear of failing is more powerful than the possiblity of success. In my endeavors I have made an agreement with myself that I won't be 'a day late and dollar short' to my own life.
So, here's my challenge to you cyber folks. Encourage all those under-estimaters to a challenge themselves. Then challenge yourself! Make a plan. A marking post to measure yourself by. It's amazing how achievable dreams become when you break them down into bite sizes and add a dash of healthy competition. Today is the perfect day to be brave, be bold. Take your dreams by the procrastinators and hold on tight for a wild ride. Instead of complacency, how about y'all come play with me! I can probably pack your things in my under eye baggage:)
Once upon a time there was a little boy. This little boy didn't like fun; he thought it was no fun. Everywhere he went he wore a big red baseball cap, pulled down low to hide his grumpy eyes. He didn't like other people having fun and he didn't like people trying to get him to have fun. His least favourite things were cheering, smiling and laughing. One day his having-no-fun Mom took him to the carnival where he sat stone faced on the bumper cars. Hearing all the fun the other kids and grown ups were having he got mad.
'I don't like it when you laugh so loud!' he shouted at them as they banged his car and giggled on to bang another. After spinning and swirling on the Zipper and Scrambler; he still didn't like fun. The only time it looked like he was smiling was when he was hung upside down but as soon as he realized he flipped it back around. His having-no-fun Mom took him to the shows- where she yawned- watching a highflying trapeze, a tightrope and lions. Death defying acts and not a shriek or an Ooooh, not even a hoot or a clap. The stone faced pair didn't crack a smile. Walking out into the midway he ate popcorn, cotton candy and corn dogs. He even finished a pound of maple fudge but he still wasn't having any fun. His red baseball cap pulled down so far, his eyes were covered when he heard a happy fun sound. Ugh, Music. Tipping his head back to get a look past his pulled down brim. Seeing his no-fun Mom was busy texting on her phone- complaining no doubt- about the perfect weather, the happy music and her no-fun Son, the boy walked towards the music eager to put an end to it. The music was coming from a parade with a marching band and a waving crowned queen riding a float with clowns strolling alongside tossing candy and beads into the crowd. He took his cap off for the first time all day and the sunshine hit the boy's frowning face. Upon her float a crowned Queen saw his un-fun face and taking pity on the boy waved to him. The clowns were dispatched, honing in on his unhappiness, picking him up, swinging him around and putting him up onto the waving Queen's float.
'My boy,' she cooed in her queenly way, 'why so sad?' Looking up to her smiling eyes and sparkling crown, then back down to the ball cap in his hands he sighed.
'I don't like fun. I don't like cheering or chuckling or secret handshakes or games. I just don't like it. Not one bit.' The Queen looked sad, forgetting she was part of a happy carnival parade, how could it be that this little boy didn't like fun?
'Little sad boy, if you had one wish what would it be?' she asked. The boy thought as the parade cut its way through the happy dancing crowd. Deep in thought, he forgot about hating fun so much. Sitting with the Queen as she waved, he couldn't help but start waving too. At first it was just for something to do as the pondered his wish- then he started feeling a feeling he'd never felt before. A single tickle under his chin. So, he waved harder watching the way the Queen waved. The crowd watching saw the un-fun boy start to change and the louder they cheered the bigger he waved. The tiny tickle under his chin scurried it's way up to the corner of his mouth. The sad clown noticed it first. The start of a smile. The first smile the boy who hated fun ever had. The crowned Queen asked the boy again,
'If you had one wish, what would you wish?'. The boy remembered suddenly about his no-fun Mom, his first smile fading. As he put his cap back on with a sigh, he turned unsmiling to the Queen and said,
'I wish my Mom could have more fun. I think most grown-ups forget how.' With that the no-fun Son climbed down from the float and ran back through the crowd towards his no-fun Mom, who was looking for him.
'You little scamp! I lost you. What have you got to say for yourself?'. With his brow furrowed underneath his hat brim, the little boy said:
'Mom, I want you to know that fun is not my thing. But you shouldn't miss out. Life can be hard on grown ups.' Taking off his baseball cap the little boy who didn't like fun, opened up a clenched fist and offered his palm to his mother, but it was empty.
'I brought you a smile fit for a Queen, and it's perfect for your face.' handing the unseen smile over; the un-fun Mom took it and used it right away. Holding out her hand to the little boy in the red baseball cap who didn't like fun.
'Well kiddo,' the now-almost-fun Mom said, 'how about we go home and leave the carnival to the people who like fun things.' And they walked home together making sure there was no more funny business. And the now-fun Mom was wearing her queenly smile the whole way.
On my way to work I found a wallet. Jammed full of papers- could've been receipts, money or the perfect standup comedy routine; I didn't look inside to see. While standing there, wallet in hand I made the decision to hand it over to the authorities. As I was on the bus platform, those authorities were TTC officers. While walking back to the ticket booth, I saw a man running frantically past me, scouring the area, looking for something and looking hard. As he passed me I spoke up: "Excuse me? What are you looking for?" Catching himself he pulled me into focus and realized I was holding a man's wallet. A smile crossed his face and a sigh escaped his lips: "That! I am looking for that." Now, I have no way of knowing if it was actually his wallet- but the odds are in his favour.
Growing up I heard many great stories about being a good Samaritan. Three travelers on the highway, the Mermaid and the Woodcutter and Red Rose and Snow White. Each one rewarded for their generous quality of spirit, though not always financially. Generosity and kindness aren't things that can be quantified, though it would be nice to be known as the best Good Samaritan. But no matter how much effort I put into being one, there's always someone better at it than me. Now, I know it's not a competition for goodness but nobody likes winning a scruffy bronze at the Samaritan games.
As for that man and his lost wallet, I gave it to him and he began running frantically back towards the bus he thought he was sure to miss. With barely a thank you, I was left standing empty handed on the platform. As important as finding his wallet was to him, he forgot that I was honest enough to give it back, unopened and safe. Leaving me to wonder if being a good person was my reward, or if the universe would make a deposit into my Karma account. I am hoping it's option 2; cuz I could really use a low interest Karmortgage.
When I woke up and stretched and let out a yawn
I couldn't remember where the week had gone
I thought maybe this week would take me all year
But the time went by fast and now that it's here.
'The weekend, the weekend' I cried out with joy
Time to spend with my Hubby and boy,
I am glad the weather is supposed to be nice
Because working all week I missed out on the ice
Tinklin' in my glass, while floating in gin
Rooftop patio please, you will soon find me in
Atop of the city with a view of CN
I love it so much, don't know where to begin.
Fingers are crossed for fun and for rest
A drink and goodbye for a gal who's the best
My uke wants to sing songs in sweet harmony
Jilly and Lucy; I'll rub their tummy
I know that the weekend will be fast and then gone
A pedi and snuggle and blog set for dawn
Monday will start with a boom and a bang
Before the sunrises I will work again
So hear me out weekend, I've been a good friend
I've worked really hard and this short weekend
I want you to listen and love me real good
The way only a summer weekend ever could
So prepare thyself weekend for fun and for mirth
Cause you know you're too short, I want all that you're worth
Thank you for hearing my pledge and my vow.
I would love you weekend, if you'd only start now!
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