In my teens and twenties I maintained a low maintenance beauty regimen. Back then I could party all night, hop in the shower and work all day, without my face telling the tale. My hair was wash and go, and makeup was just eyeliner, lip gloss and mascara. Admittedly I am a long way from the girl I used to be: times change, I’ve changed and “maintenance” is defined differently in your forties, or so I am learning. I find myself having to ramp up my maintenance just in order to maintain. I need a little help.
My hair has changed, it doesn’t have the body and volume that it used to. After years of applying relaxing my hair doesn’t remember how to bounce or behave. Now on top of those 6 week hair appointments, I have double up so that I can squeeze in a little color to mask the grays.
As if that weren’t bad enough… I went into the salon recently, just a quick stop to get my eyebrows waxed. I say to the technician standing two stations away, “Eyebrow wax?” She replies with a pointed stare at my upper lip, and questions back “Just your eyebrows?” Nice. Suffice to say, I now get my eyebrows and my lip waxed.
Which brings me to my latest humiliation.
Celebrating my recent forty-something birthday, I decided to treat myself to a few salon services. After spending years contorting myself into all kinds of awkward poses to shave my legs in the shower, and many summer Saturday afternoons enduring the aroma of hair depilatories so that I could wear short-shorts, I thought it was time to try something new. I made an appointment for a full leg and bikini wax. The epitome of high maintenance, I think.
Mindful of the fact that it was my first time, I thought carefully about which salon to bestow the honor. It might have been nice to go to a fancy spa in Manhattan to get it done, but I didn’t want to end up with staff who might be unfamiliar with the thick and curly hair I wanted removed. I didn’t want Inga from Sweden at the fancy spa talking about me, or worse yet, running screaming from the room. So I went to a local salon a few towns away from home.
Upon arriving at the salon, I was shown into a private room, and instructed to disrobe – shoes, socks, pants. “Leave the panties,” Jean my Korean technician said. That gave me a momentary sigh of relief. I tell her it’s my birthday. “Oh really? Happy Birthday”, says Jean smiling. It’s nice to take care of yourself, treat yourself on your birthday”. “Yes,” I said. She walks out and closes the door.
Once I’m undressed, she returns. Jean surveys my legs and sensing my uneasiness, she assured me it would be ok. Using strips measuring maybe 10 inches long and 4 inches wide, she started at my ankles she ripped her way up my calves to my thighs. I was prepared for the pain - being accustomed to eyebrow (and now lip) waxing. I was just thinking “this isn’t so bad. I’ll get this done again, no problem.”
Then came a knock at the door. In her lilting accent Jean says “Come in” and in walks Maritza. “Hello” she says. I answer back “Hi”.
Jean has been doing a good job but Maritza is obviously the main leg and bikini waxer. She surveys my legs, calves already done, and she helps Jean complete the job. What follows is a symphony of rip, rip, rip, like synchronized Velcro ripping over and over and over. Now, it’s bikini time.
Ok, I’m not modest, but hello, this is my BIKINI area. Once again I find myself contorting into awkward poses, but this time I’m not alone in my shower.
Now I’m holding my breath and the rip, rip, rip continues, but now each rip is followed by my own little involuntary whimper. “Almost over”, I’m saying to myself. To make conversation, or perhaps to keep me from jumping off the table, Jean shares with Maritza that it’s my birthday AND that it’s my first wax. Maritza says with smile, “Next time," she advises, "get a mani and pedi or a facial for your birthday. Pamper yourself – not a wax.” She says sympathetically. Then she says “turn over”. Whoa. This is a humbling experience.
Finally the rip, rip, rip symphony is over, and as I put my jeans back on, my ultra sensitive skin feels every stitch of the fabric.
3 weeks later, my skin is still pretty smooth and the "triangle" is still in place. Was it worth it? Will I do it again? Yes, probably… but only after my next mani and pedi and a good bottle of wine.
Monday, February 3, 2014
Monday, November 26, 2012
Holiday Shopping: My Rant
When exactly did shopping become the new American pastime? Probably when retail stores flipped the script and started opening on Sunday’s – back in the 70’s. Before then, all we had to do on Sunday was rest, relax and recharge… Same for the Friday after Thanksgiving, before the day turned “black.” Those were the good old days.
When I was a kid, I remember watching TV the day after Thanksgiving and seeing commercials for Barbie’s dream house and the GI Joe action figure sandwiched between Tom & Jerry, Magilla Gorilla and Top Cat. I sat there with a pen and paper (even then I was organized, LOL), and wrote a list of all the things I saw that I wanted. But it was in my living room, in my robe and slippers, not at Toys R’Us midnight madness… This Thanksgiving Friday, I followed my usual regimen, building up a carb-induced coma in my robe and slippers, like all the years before. I opted to celebrate good old Thanksgiving, rather than the new Black Friday – Cyber Monday spendapalooza. Apparently, my family was the only family missing from the mall.
According to the National Retail Federation, a record 247 million shoppers visited stores and websites over Black Friday weekend, (up from 226 million last year) with the average holiday shopper spending $423. $423 multiplied by 247 million people… That’s $ 104,481,000,000!! So what about the fiscal cliff? The recession? The economy? Unemployment? Did those realities fade away with the cranberry sauce? Or maybe we’re in denial, and we’re just not as worried as we should be…
If you’re my age or older, you probably remember when Thanksgiving was Thanksgiving and Christmas was Christmas. Other than the appearance of Santa Claus at the end of the Macy’s parade, they were separate. Now, the poor folks who work for stores like WalMart and Target, have to cut their turkey short and get to work. That’s just crazy.
But what does that SAY about us? Not as individuals, but as a society? Are we done with giving thanks for all our blessings, and our friends, and our families? Are we not grateful for surviving the dramas we all deal with day to day, but for surviving the sicknesses, the wars, and the storms? Since when is getting a great bargain on an item that was overpriced to begin with, exchangeable for spending time with your loved ones and making memories that will last you a lifetime? Years from now, will you really treasure that thing you bought that you can’t even remember, or will you wish you’d spent more time with those loved ones who aren’t here anymore?
My daughter commented recently about how Thanksgiving is the forgotten holiday. Right after Halloween, retailers start switching pumpkins for Santa decorations, and cable starts promoting its countdown to Christmas, running Rudolph and Frosty shows non-stop until December 25th… creating fertile soil for advertisers to seed our minds with visions of doorbuster sales that will grow their pockets with our money…Essentially creating a 60-day buildup to a 1-day holiday. Aside from that fact that Christmas for many is one of the holiest days on the calendar and should have more time… We’ve also reduced Thanksgiving to a 10-minute dinner so that we can rush out and spend, spend, spend.
In his recent article on Forbes.com entitled "Why Walmart is Not Evil For Opening on Thanksgiving," Richard Saintvilus wrote, “Walmart’s plan is to open after 8PM – long after every one has eaten and certainly after second and third portions have had enough time to be digested. Still this is nothing new as the company also opened on Thanksgiving of last year – except this time it wants to open two hours earlier. Again, I ask where is the crime?”
If you know anything about me, you know that I love to shop and over the years, I’ve single-handedly kept several retailers operating in the black. So I’m not vilifying Walmart (or my beloved Macy’s) and I’m certainly not saying that shopping is a crime. I think its great that the economy is seeing and hopefully benefitting from the millions of shoppers spending billions of dollars and putting thousands of people to work in the process. (NBC reported that cyber-giant Amazon hired 50,000 workers for this holiday season alone).
I’m just saying… Can we rethink the Thanksgiving Thursday night shopping thing and spend (pun intended) a little more time on Thanksgiving just giving thanks?
Thursday, March 1, 2012
Reason to Celebrate
Going to college is the first step of the American dream: Get an education…Get a good job…Start a family…Buy a house. Well, I have three out of four, and when I get the degree, I'll have the them all. Truth be told, it’s a little after the fact. Why at this stage in my life have I decided to finish my degree? Well…
Top Four Reasons I'm Going Back to College:
1. To become a great writer
2. To be admitted to "the club"
3. To write a really big check
4. To throw a really fabulous party
To become a great writer.
I've always been a good writer, but I long to be a great writer – like Carrie Bradshaw.Sex and the City was more than titillating cable programming; it was a glimpse into my dream career. Take away the nudity, the high fashion and the hustling city life, and what you're left with is a woman who writes a weekly column based on her daily experience and gets paid enough to buy Manolo Blahniks and Jimmy Choos. She's a writer, she's well paid, well dressed and well heeled. I've come to realize that the only thing standing between me and Jimmy Choo could be my degree – or the lack thereof. I've always been a good writer, but if I take the time to concentrate on perfecting my craft and developing my style, nothing can stop me from becoming a great writer.
To be admitted to the club.
Everyone on my team is a college graduate, and to be an official member of the club, I need a college degree. Every once in a while the conversation will turn toward "where'd you go to school?" and I say "I never actually finished." There's usually an almost imperceptible raising of the eyebrow, an embarrassed, "Oh, well, you'd never know it…" and the sound of a mental note being filed. I'm tired of not being able to say, ‘yes I have my degree, here's my transcript.’
My husband is an Electrical Engineer. My brother in-law has a Bachelor of Science in Marketing, a Masters in Public Administration and a Master of Education. My brother – my baby brother – holds a PhD in English. Though I've never actually been denied admittance to the college graduate club, I won't be an official member, until I graduate.
To write a really, big check.
I was in the 11th grade when a student/recruiter from Howard University came to our class. He didn't need to say very much since I was already convinced that it was the school for me. I remember when I said to my parents, "I want to go to Howard." …and I remember when they replied "Howard costs a lot of money." Unfortunately, I dropped the idea of college, right then and there, and I went to work right after high school. Then came marriage, my daughter, my house, my son, my son…
Now years later, I'm excited again about college, but money is still tight. It's frustrating to have the drive and energy but not the money. This time I won't let that stop me, and I don't want money to stop other women like me.
After I graduate –I want to establish a scholarship fund for working mothers who want to go back to school but need a lift over the tuition hurdle. I want to be the fairy godmother who grants the wish for fees, tuition and books by wielding my magic wand and writing a really, big check.
Why am I going back to college? To Celebrate!
We are a party culture. We celebrate the milestones in our lives: birth, baptism, bar mitzvah, sweet sixteen, wedding, retirement – party, party, party. Taking the time to stop and revel in the splendor of your good fortune is what keeps the light alive in your heart. Throwing open our doors and inviting people in to share in the good fortune is what keeps the light alive in the hearts of others.
Going back to school and completing my degree would be a major milestone for me. To finally pursue writing with the skills only college can provide… To be able to hold my head up and say to the world, "I did it. I'm a college grad"… To share that good fortune with my friends, my family and the world by helping someone else get there, too? That's a milestone; that's a blessing; that's something that will keep the heart lights going – and that's a reason to celebrate.
By the way, my graduation is June 16, 2012 :-)
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Keep the Faith
It’s incredible to me how people can keep their faith when things get bad. True, bad is relative, and what’s bad for one is not so bad for another. But those people who are always up, always positive and always optimistic are truly gifted and I hope they know it. Oh wait, they probably do – I just wish that they would spread it around and share it with those who need it.
Don Cornelius wished us love, peace and SOOOUUUL every Saturday morning on Soul Train. He gave the stage to some of the best musicians of all time: Aretha Franklin, the mighty Ojays, Gladys Knight & the Pips, Michael Jackson and hundreds of others. Yet, with all that music stirring his soul, he still found no recourse, no way out of his physical or spiritual depression and killed himself yesterday – at gunpoint. You’ve got to be at the depths of despair without any hope or faith at all, to put a gun to your own head and pull the trigger. May Don’s spirit rest in peace.
On his radio show this morning, Steve Harvey said that for Don to take his own life that he must have lost his faith. I agree with him when he said that the saddest of all things is to lose faith. Faith that you can make it through, faith in whomever you call God, faith that you’ve got the strength to ask for help and that help will come. Faith ultimately is what lets you lay your head down at night and dream about tomorrow. You can’t lose faith – without it you’ve got nothing.
Don Cornelius wished us love, peace and SOOOUUUL every Saturday morning on Soul Train. He gave the stage to some of the best musicians of all time: Aretha Franklin, the mighty Ojays, Gladys Knight & the Pips, Michael Jackson and hundreds of others. Yet, with all that music stirring his soul, he still found no recourse, no way out of his physical or spiritual depression and killed himself yesterday – at gunpoint. You’ve got to be at the depths of despair without any hope or faith at all, to put a gun to your own head and pull the trigger. May Don’s spirit rest in peace.
On his radio show this morning, Steve Harvey said that for Don to take his own life that he must have lost his faith. I agree with him when he said that the saddest of all things is to lose faith. Faith that you can make it through, faith in whomever you call God, faith that you’ve got the strength to ask for help and that help will come. Faith ultimately is what lets you lay your head down at night and dream about tomorrow. You can’t lose faith – without it you’ve got nothing.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Sometimes the lessons we teach are meant for us to learn
My three kids are wonderful. No, really… they are and I love them but sometimes they’re just dense. They’re pretty good in school, don’t get into trouble, nice kids – but they don’t listen. I find that I repeat myself about certain things – over and over and over again and they just ignore me. Some of these are small lessons, true, but some are pretty important to learn now so that they’ll know what to do when they’re all grown up and on their own. This morning I heard myself for the hundredth time. I said, “Why aren’t you getting this? Don’t you know that this little thing can save you from drama and frustration? Once you get this, we can move on!!”
That was it. That’s when I realized that the lesson was mine to learn. In my life there are patterns and repeat mistakes where I fall into the same trap, or face the same issue over and over, like déjà vu all over again. This morning I realized that those moments are the lessons I was meant to learn, and that this morning God was hitting his head against the wall with frustration because I wasn’t getting it. I got it now, like a big “duh”!
I say to my kids all the time, that when I say it the first time, it’s in my normal voice. Over time as I repeat myself, I get louder and louder, because I assume that if you didn’t respond, or do what I asked that you didn’t hear me… So I’m going to find other ways to get through to you. God follows the same logic. He starts with a whisper to your soul, and he gets louder and louder, using other ways to get through to you until one day he practically hits you in the head: Hellooo!! You’re just not getting it and we can’t move on until you do!
Oprah has said it, I’ve felt it in my spirit, and no doubt you have, too. Life teaches you lessons every day. Just get it and move on.
That was it. That’s when I realized that the lesson was mine to learn. In my life there are patterns and repeat mistakes where I fall into the same trap, or face the same issue over and over, like déjà vu all over again. This morning I realized that those moments are the lessons I was meant to learn, and that this morning God was hitting his head against the wall with frustration because I wasn’t getting it. I got it now, like a big “duh”!
I say to my kids all the time, that when I say it the first time, it’s in my normal voice. Over time as I repeat myself, I get louder and louder, because I assume that if you didn’t respond, or do what I asked that you didn’t hear me… So I’m going to find other ways to get through to you. God follows the same logic. He starts with a whisper to your soul, and he gets louder and louder, using other ways to get through to you until one day he practically hits you in the head: Hellooo!! You’re just not getting it and we can’t move on until you do!
Oprah has said it, I’ve felt it in my spirit, and no doubt you have, too. Life teaches you lessons every day. Just get it and move on.
Friday, August 19, 2011
One Snowball at a Time
I sigh. Alot. As a direct result of being over analytical, I get frustrated or just plain stuck and I sigh. While its true that between my family, my home and my job I don't often have time to think; however, given a moment of peace, a quiet lull or an hour under the dryer at the hairdresser -- my contemplative self take over and then... I sigh.
What do I think about that causes so much frustration? Oh, a bit of everything. Providing for the family with limited means, having limited opportunities to spend quality time with my hubby, paying the bills, the overdue oil change, the missing shingles on the roof, my middle that jiggles, my job, my clients and so on, and so on. Is it any wonder why I sigh all the time? Its overwhelming to think of the mountain of responsibilities and the shortage of time and resources to address it all.
Its not that so much is wrong per se, but there's so much to do and none of it is simple. Its a mountain of things to do that is my life and as such it begs the question: What does it actually take to change your life?
A new look can be achieved by going shopping. A new job can take care of maybe money, health insurance and provide a semblance of security. Weeks of dieting or months or working out can change your body and your health... or a plastic surgeon can give you similar results with the added benefit of instant gratification. Therein lies the problem. I want it all and right now, please.
Maybe I watched too much I Dream of Jeannie and Bewitched as a kid and I am applying the expectation that changing your life can come with a blink or a twitch and a really cheesy sound effect. I should know better.
More than 10 years ago I quit smoking. That was not easy. Going in I knew that 16 years of smoking wouldn't go away instantly, and I would have to work at it, which I did. I tried everything: the gum (yuck), the patches and drinking lots of water (and then Entenmann's Rich Frosted Donuts, but that's another story). Ultimately, it was the one cigarette, one day at a time approach that worked. I had to fight each urge to smoke and decide not to - one at a time.
I guess that how I should approach changing my life - one bit at a time. Concentrating on everything means concentrating on nothing - which has not been successful thus far. I just spin my wheels and go nowhere. Concentrate instead on one item and work at it a little everyday -- making the consistent effort to focus on one thing until its resolved before tackling the next. Kind of like the debt snowball...
If you've never heard of it, the debt snowball method of paying off your debts requires that you pay down one credit card and when its paid off, you apply those funds to the next credit card and so on until the snowball wipes out all your debt. The key is to start with the smallest bill first, the one that will encourage you to go on.
I suppose changing your life can follow the same principle: start with the area that will yield the greatest result and let it encourage you to go on. Then watch it snowball, one day at a time.
What do I think about that causes so much frustration? Oh, a bit of everything. Providing for the family with limited means, having limited opportunities to spend quality time with my hubby, paying the bills, the overdue oil change, the missing shingles on the roof, my middle that jiggles, my job, my clients and so on, and so on. Is it any wonder why I sigh all the time? Its overwhelming to think of the mountain of responsibilities and the shortage of time and resources to address it all.
Its not that so much is wrong per se, but there's so much to do and none of it is simple. Its a mountain of things to do that is my life and as such it begs the question: What does it actually take to change your life?
A new look can be achieved by going shopping. A new job can take care of maybe money, health insurance and provide a semblance of security. Weeks of dieting or months or working out can change your body and your health... or a plastic surgeon can give you similar results with the added benefit of instant gratification. Therein lies the problem. I want it all and right now, please.
Maybe I watched too much I Dream of Jeannie and Bewitched as a kid and I am applying the expectation that changing your life can come with a blink or a twitch and a really cheesy sound effect. I should know better.
More than 10 years ago I quit smoking. That was not easy. Going in I knew that 16 years of smoking wouldn't go away instantly, and I would have to work at it, which I did. I tried everything: the gum (yuck), the patches and drinking lots of water (and then Entenmann's Rich Frosted Donuts, but that's another story). Ultimately, it was the one cigarette, one day at a time approach that worked. I had to fight each urge to smoke and decide not to - one at a time.
I guess that how I should approach changing my life - one bit at a time. Concentrating on everything means concentrating on nothing - which has not been successful thus far. I just spin my wheels and go nowhere. Concentrate instead on one item and work at it a little everyday -- making the consistent effort to focus on one thing until its resolved before tackling the next. Kind of like the debt snowball...
If you've never heard of it, the debt snowball method of paying off your debts requires that you pay down one credit card and when its paid off, you apply those funds to the next credit card and so on until the snowball wipes out all your debt. The key is to start with the smallest bill first, the one that will encourage you to go on.
I suppose changing your life can follow the same principle: start with the area that will yield the greatest result and let it encourage you to go on. Then watch it snowball, one day at a time.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
My Friend Linda Died
I found out yesterday that my friend Linda died. We worked together a long time ago, before I had kids, and before I got married. She's been my friend for over 20 years.
I call her my friend and I always will, but in my heart I know that I took my friend for granted. I hadn't seen her in years but through voicemail, email and facebook, we connected often enough to stay connected I thought.
She called me at work one hectic day this past winter. She was in the hospital she said, but she made it sound like no big deal. From winter to spring, bogged down in my own life I thought of her often. "I've got to call Linda", I would say but I never got around to it.
Finally, yesterday I took a minute to look her up on Facebook. There I saw the posts from her other friends uniting to say how much they missed her now that she was in heaven. There was a video posted, songs, and prayers but there is no more Linda.
I carried on at work yesterday stoically, quietly looking forward to a moment to be alone with my thoughts, my mourning and my regret. Finally as I laid my head down to rest on my pillow last night the tears flooded my heart and all I could say was "I'm sorry, Linda."
When the tears subsided I thought then of all my other friends whom I haven't seen in years. Obligations, state lines, oceans and time keep us apart, we all know that. But is the love I have for them in my heart enough to continue to claim them as my friends? Do they feel neglected? Do they still count me on their "friend" list?
Linda and I would leave crazy voicemails on each other's phones. She would say "CHELLE!!!!" and I would say "Lindaaaaaaaah!!". She would ask about my husband and kids and I owuld ask about her cat and her travels. (Her cat was HUGE and she traveled quite extensively, Europe and the Caribbean - pretty cool.) Then a few months later I would get another "CHELLE!!!!" and we'd connect again.
One could say that it was enough. One could say that we each knew where the other was and that no matter how much time had passed, that we could always pick up where we left off in the same old groove like peas and carrots, as Forrest Gump might say. However true that might be, I know that friendship should be more.
I heard someone say that friends are like the family members you get to choose. People you invite into your life and welcome them to stay. You're there for each other and eventually they are a part of your whole life, not just a piece of it. Linda and I connected on every major event, but still my friend Linda died and I found out on Facebook.
I have a list of friends and family members for that matter - that I haven't seen in years (you know who you are - wink-wink). Know this: I love you and you'll be hearing from me.
I call her my friend and I always will, but in my heart I know that I took my friend for granted. I hadn't seen her in years but through voicemail, email and facebook, we connected often enough to stay connected I thought.
She called me at work one hectic day this past winter. She was in the hospital she said, but she made it sound like no big deal. From winter to spring, bogged down in my own life I thought of her often. "I've got to call Linda", I would say but I never got around to it.
Finally, yesterday I took a minute to look her up on Facebook. There I saw the posts from her other friends uniting to say how much they missed her now that she was in heaven. There was a video posted, songs, and prayers but there is no more Linda.
I carried on at work yesterday stoically, quietly looking forward to a moment to be alone with my thoughts, my mourning and my regret. Finally as I laid my head down to rest on my pillow last night the tears flooded my heart and all I could say was "I'm sorry, Linda."
When the tears subsided I thought then of all my other friends whom I haven't seen in years. Obligations, state lines, oceans and time keep us apart, we all know that. But is the love I have for them in my heart enough to continue to claim them as my friends? Do they feel neglected? Do they still count me on their "friend" list?
Linda and I would leave crazy voicemails on each other's phones. She would say "CHELLE!!!!" and I would say "Lindaaaaaaaah!!". She would ask about my husband and kids and I owuld ask about her cat and her travels. (Her cat was HUGE and she traveled quite extensively, Europe and the Caribbean - pretty cool.) Then a few months later I would get another "CHELLE!!!!" and we'd connect again.
One could say that it was enough. One could say that we each knew where the other was and that no matter how much time had passed, that we could always pick up where we left off in the same old groove like peas and carrots, as Forrest Gump might say. However true that might be, I know that friendship should be more.
I heard someone say that friends are like the family members you get to choose. People you invite into your life and welcome them to stay. You're there for each other and eventually they are a part of your whole life, not just a piece of it. Linda and I connected on every major event, but still my friend Linda died and I found out on Facebook.
I have a list of friends and family members for that matter - that I haven't seen in years (you know who you are - wink-wink). Know this: I love you and you'll be hearing from me.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
What about tomorrow?
There was an acute awareness of time passing by today. As we went about our lives, doing the things we do on Saturdays -- at the mall, the beauty salon, and the barbershop, whether we admit it or not, there was a palpable question lingering in the air. As time ticked by you may have wondered to yourself what the future held for you -- today.
We all know we've got to go sometime, but no one knows when. Yet, the idea propagated by one man that the end was near may have instilled a permanent question mark over your head, like the quizzical bubble over your favorite comic book character's head. What if?
I was reminded of the days after September 11th. In those dark days in New York especially, everyone was just a bit kinder, more compassionate. The reality of just how close many of us came to the end of our days was enough to change our views, our directions and our philosophies. Faced with the tragic reality of the day, all of us recognized the value of our lives, of each day, of our loved ones, and of our faith that given this miraculous second chance that we'd live the rest of our lives to the fullest.
Today may have held a similar value for you. While we may have dismissed the idea that the end was near with a certain sardonic skepticism, we may also have wondered, deep down in our hearts whether tomorrow would come. We laughed about what would happen or not happen at 6PM, but you may have noticed as I did that the laughter seemed just a bit forced. Did you wonder as I did, where you would be, or where you should be? Did you change your activities at all? Did you silently glance at the clock more often that you normally would on a sunny, Saturday afternoon?
I don't know about you, but I took today as a blessing. A sweet reminder that you can only live your life one moment at a time, one day at a time. September 11 was a wake up call - an event that we lived through to remind us of the sweetness of tomorrow. So make your tomorrow count. :-)
We all know we've got to go sometime, but no one knows when. Yet, the idea propagated by one man that the end was near may have instilled a permanent question mark over your head, like the quizzical bubble over your favorite comic book character's head. What if?
I was reminded of the days after September 11th. In those dark days in New York especially, everyone was just a bit kinder, more compassionate. The reality of just how close many of us came to the end of our days was enough to change our views, our directions and our philosophies. Faced with the tragic reality of the day, all of us recognized the value of our lives, of each day, of our loved ones, and of our faith that given this miraculous second chance that we'd live the rest of our lives to the fullest.
Today may have held a similar value for you. While we may have dismissed the idea that the end was near with a certain sardonic skepticism, we may also have wondered, deep down in our hearts whether tomorrow would come. We laughed about what would happen or not happen at 6PM, but you may have noticed as I did that the laughter seemed just a bit forced. Did you wonder as I did, where you would be, or where you should be? Did you change your activities at all? Did you silently glance at the clock more often that you normally would on a sunny, Saturday afternoon?
I don't know about you, but I took today as a blessing. A sweet reminder that you can only live your life one moment at a time, one day at a time. September 11 was a wake up call - an event that we lived through to remind us of the sweetness of tomorrow. So make your tomorrow count. :-)
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Don’t Let Anyone Steal Your Joy
Some people just like pushing buttons. Remember those toys you played with as a baby? You press this button and Mickey Mouse pops up, press that one and Donald Duck pops up. Eventually the child learns how to get Mickey or Donald to pop up whenever they want. Now fast forward a few years… Let’s say you’re at work… Someone has been reading you and studying how to get the response they want from you. If they want you to be happy, press this button… and if they want you to jump off the ledge, its that one. Those are the button pushers that get a sadistic thrill from seeing you out there on the ledge. Remember near the end of “The Devil Wears Prada”? All she had to say was “Do I smell freesias?” and the poor girl started stammering.
These are the people who want to tick you off, instill fear and hopelessness in your heart. Recent news stories will help you identify that kind of behavior as bullying -- which is unacceptable in any setting. It robs you of your happiness and can turn even the most confident person into a stammering fool.
Stop stammering. It doesn’t make sense to put up with negative behavior in your life. Just because some knucklehead didn’t get enough love in their childhood, or feels inadequate or insecure in themselves, it doesn’t give them the entre’ to spread the drama. We all know that’s where the negativity comes from – misery loves company and those miserable folks love to spread it around.
Well, guess what? It’s spring. It’s time for renewal of the earth and of the spirit. Let’s start by shaking off the negative energy and flipping the script. So if someone is pushing your buttons switch it up and change your response. Stand up – in your own way of course (and preferably a way that won’t get you jailed or fired) and represent.
Take back your power, and take back your joy.
These are the people who want to tick you off, instill fear and hopelessness in your heart. Recent news stories will help you identify that kind of behavior as bullying -- which is unacceptable in any setting. It robs you of your happiness and can turn even the most confident person into a stammering fool.
Stop stammering. It doesn’t make sense to put up with negative behavior in your life. Just because some knucklehead didn’t get enough love in their childhood, or feels inadequate or insecure in themselves, it doesn’t give them the entre’ to spread the drama. We all know that’s where the negativity comes from – misery loves company and those miserable folks love to spread it around.
Well, guess what? It’s spring. It’s time for renewal of the earth and of the spirit. Let’s start by shaking off the negative energy and flipping the script. So if someone is pushing your buttons switch it up and change your response. Stand up – in your own way of course (and preferably a way that won’t get you jailed or fired) and represent.
Take back your power, and take back your joy.
Monday, April 4, 2011
The Pied Piper of Freeport - Zumba Classes Heat up the South Shore
This little bundle of energy enters the room, all smiles and hellos. She is dressed in a black tank, black cargo pants and sneakers. She is Lilly Leon, or as I call her, the Pied Piper of Freeport. As she enters, the speakers boom with swaying Latin rhythms. Lilly starts moving and the group falls in line, like obedient mice following her lead. The Zumba class has begun.
If Zumba is new to you, allow me to make the introductions. Zumba is a hot dance/exercise class, combining salsa, merengue, samba and just a touch of hip-hop flavor. The class itself is a combination of flavors, as everyone joins in the fun and sweats like crazy for one hour of Latin beats. Look around tonight’s class and you’ll find mostly women, a few brave men, trained dancers, gymnasts, 30-somethings, 40-somethings and beyond; those who get the beat and those who live in a rhythm-less nation. It doesn’t matter, we’re all here every Tuesday night and loving it.
Admittedly, I was more than a little scared to start out. I am your average 40-something wife and mother of three who has put on a few pounds over the years. I didn’t want to embarrass myself dancing around like an uncoordinated fool struggling to keep up. A few minutes into the class, I realized I would be ok. There are maybe 100 of us in each class, lined up in rows and Lilly moves around the room so that we can all have her in our line of sight and follow along. She keeps the choreography pretty simple and basic – the kind that we can all follow. In tonight’s class of maybe 100 people, you kind of forget about everybody else and have fun, like when you’re alone in your house with just your favorite radio station for company.
What about the exercise part, you may ask… The class is set up in sets and after each set you get a little break – just long enough to take a sip of water and dab yourself with a towel before the music starts again. The hour-long class consists of maybe six sets of around 5-8 minutes each, taking you through an eclectic menu of Latin and Caribbean tempos. I’ll admit the first two classes were hard work and I didn’t think I’d last the whole hour. (Keep in mind that Zumba is, after all, aerobic exercise. This is not easy for a recovering couch potato, like me.) However, as I looked around I noticed that everyone was working within his or her own limit. Recognizing my own limits, I decided to concentrate on building enough stamina to get through the class. Once I build up my stamina, I can concentrate a little more working more of my muscles and perfecting my form to get that toned look. So for now I just do what I can, which is probably good advice for anyone starting a new exercise program. “Do what you can until you can do more” became my motto. In the end however, it is Lilly’s energy and the music party atmosphere that keeps me going.
Why Zumba? I realized it was time to get my butt off the couch and get my blood pumping again. It was either Zumba, a gym membership I’d never use, or a personal trainer I couldn’t afford. Tough decision, but Zumba classes seemed like a great compromise. Dancing one night a week for 8 weeks was less than $100 and proved to be a worthy investment and welcome escape. Where else can I go out dancing without having to dress up? Where else can I listen to the kind of music I like without my teenagers changing the station? For me, it's Zumba.
-------------------------------------------------
For more information about Lilly Leon’s Zumba classes, visit http://lamystika.com/Zumba.html or send her an email at lillylamystika@yahoo.com
If Zumba is new to you, allow me to make the introductions. Zumba is a hot dance/exercise class, combining salsa, merengue, samba and just a touch of hip-hop flavor. The class itself is a combination of flavors, as everyone joins in the fun and sweats like crazy for one hour of Latin beats. Look around tonight’s class and you’ll find mostly women, a few brave men, trained dancers, gymnasts, 30-somethings, 40-somethings and beyond; those who get the beat and those who live in a rhythm-less nation. It doesn’t matter, we’re all here every Tuesday night and loving it.
Admittedly, I was more than a little scared to start out. I am your average 40-something wife and mother of three who has put on a few pounds over the years. I didn’t want to embarrass myself dancing around like an uncoordinated fool struggling to keep up. A few minutes into the class, I realized I would be ok. There are maybe 100 of us in each class, lined up in rows and Lilly moves around the room so that we can all have her in our line of sight and follow along. She keeps the choreography pretty simple and basic – the kind that we can all follow. In tonight’s class of maybe 100 people, you kind of forget about everybody else and have fun, like when you’re alone in your house with just your favorite radio station for company.
What about the exercise part, you may ask… The class is set up in sets and after each set you get a little break – just long enough to take a sip of water and dab yourself with a towel before the music starts again. The hour-long class consists of maybe six sets of around 5-8 minutes each, taking you through an eclectic menu of Latin and Caribbean tempos. I’ll admit the first two classes were hard work and I didn’t think I’d last the whole hour. (Keep in mind that Zumba is, after all, aerobic exercise. This is not easy for a recovering couch potato, like me.) However, as I looked around I noticed that everyone was working within his or her own limit. Recognizing my own limits, I decided to concentrate on building enough stamina to get through the class. Once I build up my stamina, I can concentrate a little more working more of my muscles and perfecting my form to get that toned look. So for now I just do what I can, which is probably good advice for anyone starting a new exercise program. “Do what you can until you can do more” became my motto. In the end however, it is Lilly’s energy and the music party atmosphere that keeps me going.
Why Zumba? I realized it was time to get my butt off the couch and get my blood pumping again. It was either Zumba, a gym membership I’d never use, or a personal trainer I couldn’t afford. Tough decision, but Zumba classes seemed like a great compromise. Dancing one night a week for 8 weeks was less than $100 and proved to be a worthy investment and welcome escape. Where else can I go out dancing without having to dress up? Where else can I listen to the kind of music I like without my teenagers changing the station? For me, it's Zumba.
-------------------------------------------------
For more information about Lilly Leon’s Zumba classes, visit http://lamystika.com/Zumba.html or send her an email at lillylamystika@yahoo.com
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Social Media or Digital Schizophrenia: Dooce, The Stripper and LinkedIn
Heather Armstrong vented about her boss on her blog and got fired. She was totally within her right to exercise freedom of expression, but still she was fired for exercising that freedom in a digital form. (The irony: she may have been right about her boss, otherwise she might still be employed.)
How about the NYC public school teacher who recently blogged about her experience as a prostitute before she became an elementary school teacher? Mayor Bloomberg himself yanked her out of the classroom.
Take LinkedIn… if you are linked to your boss you may be limited in the amount of open digital networking you can do. Worse yet, human resource professionals regularly scout their employees LinkedIn pages. While the scouting may be innocent, can frequent updates to your profile trigger a call from HR with a pink slip? What if your boss or HR team Googles you – what will they find? Do you really want your HR exec following you on Twitter?
What I really don’t like is when companies go gung-ho about social media and insist that you identify yourself with the company digitally. Think about it… Is your current job your “identity”? Nothing is forever, right? If you should ever leave the company, can you de-twitter, un-link and dis-like your company? Probably not as easy as hitting the delete button, I suspect.
In a recent Wall Street Journal article the author explained the need for a positive electronic identity - an alter-ego, an elecronic Clark Kent for whom no mardi-gras, or jello shots videos exist. Creating a digital dossier that presents you in a positive light is fine for most of us – especially when you’re looking for a job and you need to convey a professional image. But I maintain that its virtually impossible to keep Superman separate from Clark Kent. Even the best superhero struggles to keep the two worlds separate (well, maybe except for Tony Stark, but he's different.)
In real life, its just not that easy. For example, let's say your latest Facebook post announces that you’re currently shopping your screenplay to Hollywood movie studios and you have a deal pending. That seems like an innocent post, but your current employer could take that as a signal that you’ll be leaving soon, or as an explanation for your extension’s recent increase in phone calls to the coast.
Clearly, I have a problem with the whole digital thing. I just can’t figure out how you can be your whole, authentic self online unless you are self-employed, independently wealthy or otherwise financially secure. But then again if you are wholly authentic, self-employed, independently wealthy and otherwise financially secure, should you really be posting your life’s details online?
As my Mom said when she found (and read) my diary when I was 14, don’t put anything in writing that you wouldn’t want anyone else to read.
How about the NYC public school teacher who recently blogged about her experience as a prostitute before she became an elementary school teacher? Mayor Bloomberg himself yanked her out of the classroom.
Take LinkedIn… if you are linked to your boss you may be limited in the amount of open digital networking you can do. Worse yet, human resource professionals regularly scout their employees LinkedIn pages. While the scouting may be innocent, can frequent updates to your profile trigger a call from HR with a pink slip? What if your boss or HR team Googles you – what will they find? Do you really want your HR exec following you on Twitter?
What I really don’t like is when companies go gung-ho about social media and insist that you identify yourself with the company digitally. Think about it… Is your current job your “identity”? Nothing is forever, right? If you should ever leave the company, can you de-twitter, un-link and dis-like your company? Probably not as easy as hitting the delete button, I suspect.
In a recent Wall Street Journal article the author explained the need for a positive electronic identity - an alter-ego, an elecronic Clark Kent for whom no mardi-gras, or jello shots videos exist. Creating a digital dossier that presents you in a positive light is fine for most of us – especially when you’re looking for a job and you need to convey a professional image. But I maintain that its virtually impossible to keep Superman separate from Clark Kent. Even the best superhero struggles to keep the two worlds separate (well, maybe except for Tony Stark, but he's different.)
In real life, its just not that easy. For example, let's say your latest Facebook post announces that you’re currently shopping your screenplay to Hollywood movie studios and you have a deal pending. That seems like an innocent post, but your current employer could take that as a signal that you’ll be leaving soon, or as an explanation for your extension’s recent increase in phone calls to the coast.
Clearly, I have a problem with the whole digital thing. I just can’t figure out how you can be your whole, authentic self online unless you are self-employed, independently wealthy or otherwise financially secure. But then again if you are wholly authentic, self-employed, independently wealthy and otherwise financially secure, should you really be posting your life’s details online?
As my Mom said when she found (and read) my diary when I was 14, don’t put anything in writing that you wouldn’t want anyone else to read.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Find Your Happy Place
How often is the well being of your spirit directed by external forces? When something goes right, you're on cloud 9. When something goes wrong you're in the depths of despair. Why are you giving your joy away and letting your life and happiness be determined by the actions of other people? This is the surest path to depression and anxiety. Regardless of the circumstance, the drama, the highs or the lows, stay the course, hold steady and do what you can to stay centered and grounded.
Find your happy place. If you haven't been there lately, let me describe it for you. Its that place where you know that you'll be ok no matter what life brings you. Its where your heart is filled with faith that whether they love you or love you not, your internal happiness will survive. Your mind doesn't race with worry when a door closes because you know a window will open. Your body is filled with positive energy even when those around you predict gloom and doom. Your happy place is the core of your being, the joyful spirit inside you where no one dwells except you and your God.
Take back your spirit and find the place in your heart where joy dwells. Once you find it, move in.
Happy New Year!
Find your happy place. If you haven't been there lately, let me describe it for you. Its that place where you know that you'll be ok no matter what life brings you. Its where your heart is filled with faith that whether they love you or love you not, your internal happiness will survive. Your mind doesn't race with worry when a door closes because you know a window will open. Your body is filled with positive energy even when those around you predict gloom and doom. Your happy place is the core of your being, the joyful spirit inside you where no one dwells except you and your God.
Take back your spirit and find the place in your heart where joy dwells. Once you find it, move in.
Happy New Year!
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
You DON’T Complete Me - Why you need to put yourself first.
Today Elizabeth Edwards lost her long battle with cancer. She was to me a shining example of personal strength and why you need to put yourself first. Her husband screwed up, publicly. Fathered a child with another woman, denied the whole thing and then recanted admitting to both the child and the affair. He acted selfishly and his actions impacted his family and his wife.
We see broken wives everyday, who crumple and fall in the same situation. How many Oprah episodes (or Jerry Springer if that’s your thing) feature the tearful (or chair hurling) wife? How do I go on without him, they cry. What they’re really saying is “Who am I without him?”
Elizabeth Edwards died today and all I could think was that no matter what he was doing, no matter what drama he imposed, she still had to battle cancer and fight back death. While she loved him deeply I’m sure, she had to step into her obligation to fight her fight no matter what he was doing. Whether he loved her or not… Whether he cheated or not... Whether he lied or not... At the end of the day – indeed at the end of her life – she still had to be Elizabeth Edwards.
That’s a lesson I learned years ago. I was so busy worrying about what my man was doing that I began to neglect myself. I didn’t want him to go anywhere or do anything without me, for fear that if given a little freedom, he might leave forever. What I didn’t realize back then was that no matter what he did I would have to live with myself. If we divorced one day, if he passed away, or if he ran away and joined the circus – I would still be me. If I remained lost in a dance of keeping him “here” I’d lose myself.
I think that’s the thing that strikes women the hardest. We give of ourselves, nurture our families and build a home where we want everyone to feel happy, secure and loved. We build our lives around a man or our kids, but when the relationship ends and the kids grow up and move away, you’re still there. Will you know who you are? Will you be the bitter woman who blames everyone else for her loneliness? Or will you be the woman who loves herself and can be alone without feeling “lonely”?
I’ve learned that you’ve got to be whole. Never mind that “you complete me” drivel, you complete yourself. Be whole on your own. The people in your life are there to share your journey until your paths separate and you have to walk on by yourself. Are you just going to sit pitifully by the side of the road until the next person comes along and hitchhike with them? Don’t do that. It’s a road destined for loneliness and regret. Walk your own path, stop when you’re tired, smell the roses and learn as you go – but never be afraid to walk alone.
We see broken wives everyday, who crumple and fall in the same situation. How many Oprah episodes (or Jerry Springer if that’s your thing) feature the tearful (or chair hurling) wife? How do I go on without him, they cry. What they’re really saying is “Who am I without him?”
Elizabeth Edwards died today and all I could think was that no matter what he was doing, no matter what drama he imposed, she still had to battle cancer and fight back death. While she loved him deeply I’m sure, she had to step into her obligation to fight her fight no matter what he was doing. Whether he loved her or not… Whether he cheated or not... Whether he lied or not... At the end of the day – indeed at the end of her life – she still had to be Elizabeth Edwards.
That’s a lesson I learned years ago. I was so busy worrying about what my man was doing that I began to neglect myself. I didn’t want him to go anywhere or do anything without me, for fear that if given a little freedom, he might leave forever. What I didn’t realize back then was that no matter what he did I would have to live with myself. If we divorced one day, if he passed away, or if he ran away and joined the circus – I would still be me. If I remained lost in a dance of keeping him “here” I’d lose myself.
I think that’s the thing that strikes women the hardest. We give of ourselves, nurture our families and build a home where we want everyone to feel happy, secure and loved. We build our lives around a man or our kids, but when the relationship ends and the kids grow up and move away, you’re still there. Will you know who you are? Will you be the bitter woman who blames everyone else for her loneliness? Or will you be the woman who loves herself and can be alone without feeling “lonely”?
I’ve learned that you’ve got to be whole. Never mind that “you complete me” drivel, you complete yourself. Be whole on your own. The people in your life are there to share your journey until your paths separate and you have to walk on by yourself. Are you just going to sit pitifully by the side of the road until the next person comes along and hitchhike with them? Don’t do that. It’s a road destined for loneliness and regret. Walk your own path, stop when you’re tired, smell the roses and learn as you go – but never be afraid to walk alone.
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Who are you, really?
Two of my favorite female characters are Kandi Burruss of The Real Housewives of Atlanta, and the infamous Samantha Jones of Sex and the City. What I love about them is that they know exactly who they are and no matter where they are, no matter who is watching, they are who they are. The irony that they are both paid to perform for the camera notwithstanding, they are both authentic characters.
Kandi is a self-made, successful singer and songwriter. She’s very down to earth, nothing fazes her and when she sees bull---- she calls it like it is. Love that. Kandi was attending a really chi-chi-poo-poo bridal shower on a recent episode, where the women were dressed to the nines – big hats, gloves, and ballerinas. So in a very small gesture, as she was alighting from her Mercedes for the event, she puts on her big hat. Looking like a new millennium Minnie Pearl, with the price tag dangling from her obviously new big hat, she snatches off the price tag and keeps on strutting. Cool.
Then there’s Samantha Jones, so comfortable in her heterosexuality – as any fan of the show knows. Always ready for whatever comes up, she’s open for new, ummm, opportunities, and she doesn’t hold her tongue – no puns intended. Even in Abu Dhabi surrounded by women shrouded in burkas, and people all around are speaking in whispers – she speaks her mind, loudly.
A good friend of mine, let’s call her PB, once told me that women get to a certain age and they recognize who they really are. They no longer live for approval, or acceptance they embrace themselves, do what feels right and keep on strutting. In today's terms, that someone is your authentic self.
Male or female, we have all bought into other people's ideas of who we are and what we should say and do. Whether its our family, or our boss, or society in general. But we spend so much of our lives and our energy trying to meet someone else's expectations that eventually we resent the restrictions and we come to resent ourselves for living half a life. Well, here's my expectation for you. Live your whole life, be your whole self, and be happy in it.
Its not an easy thing to and I don't know exactly how to do that, but I have caught glimpses of the real me..The one who loves my husband, my kids and my family - shopping, movies, good music and the beach…The one who really, really doesn't like getting up before noon...The one who doesn't like confrontations, but will handle it when necessary. I recognize those are some of the things that make me me, and I'm learning to embrace that she is my authentic self. She's not perfect, and she’s not here full-time yet but I’m working on it.
Have you met your authentic self? http://www.oprah.com/spirit/New-Years-Resolution-Just-Be-Yourself
Kandi is a self-made, successful singer and songwriter. She’s very down to earth, nothing fazes her and when she sees bull---- she calls it like it is. Love that. Kandi was attending a really chi-chi-poo-poo bridal shower on a recent episode, where the women were dressed to the nines – big hats, gloves, and ballerinas. So in a very small gesture, as she was alighting from her Mercedes for the event, she puts on her big hat. Looking like a new millennium Minnie Pearl, with the price tag dangling from her obviously new big hat, she snatches off the price tag and keeps on strutting. Cool.
Then there’s Samantha Jones, so comfortable in her heterosexuality – as any fan of the show knows. Always ready for whatever comes up, she’s open for new, ummm, opportunities, and she doesn’t hold her tongue – no puns intended. Even in Abu Dhabi surrounded by women shrouded in burkas, and people all around are speaking in whispers – she speaks her mind, loudly.
A good friend of mine, let’s call her PB, once told me that women get to a certain age and they recognize who they really are. They no longer live for approval, or acceptance they embrace themselves, do what feels right and keep on strutting. In today's terms, that someone is your authentic self.
Male or female, we have all bought into other people's ideas of who we are and what we should say and do. Whether its our family, or our boss, or society in general. But we spend so much of our lives and our energy trying to meet someone else's expectations that eventually we resent the restrictions and we come to resent ourselves for living half a life. Well, here's my expectation for you. Live your whole life, be your whole self, and be happy in it.
Its not an easy thing to and I don't know exactly how to do that, but I have caught glimpses of the real me..The one who loves my husband, my kids and my family - shopping, movies, good music and the beach…The one who really, really doesn't like getting up before noon...The one who doesn't like confrontations, but will handle it when necessary. I recognize those are some of the things that make me me, and I'm learning to embrace that she is my authentic self. She's not perfect, and she’s not here full-time yet but I’m working on it.
Have you met your authentic self? http://www.oprah.com/spirit/New-Years-Resolution-Just-Be-Yourself
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
The Lost Art of Visiting
When I was a kid, the cool thing to do was hang out at a friend’s house. Especially in the summer, when we’d sit on each other’s stoops and talk, joke around and just hang out. We watched Luke and Laura get married at my house. We played UNO next door, and watched the Thriller video (mesmerized) on a Betamax video player across the street. We’d get together and watch Hot Tracks, or the occasional birthday party with ice cream and cake.
Back then my family used to do a lot of visiting, too. My family was huge (or at least it seemed huge to me). Dozens of aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents would get together at family reunions, weddings, barbeques and fish fries. Visiting: talking, joking and just hanging out. Those were the best times, seeing my parents become kids again in the presence of their elders and have fun.
Whether it was with my friends or my huge family, there seemed to always be something going on – something to celebrate, some function to capture with my Polaroid camera.
Nowadays, people don’t seem to do much visiting.
As I grew up, my friends in the neighborhood all moved away to begin their adult lives – off to college, off to get married, to the Navy, Army and Air Force. Scattered like leaves in the breeze.
My family landscape seems to have changed too. The older generation has gotten older or has passed on and the younger generation is not as good at the barbeque, fish fry, family reunion thing.
One could blame it on the 90’s when everyone concentrated on getting ahead, or the events of 2001 which sent people cocooning into their homes. We could also blame it on email, twitter, texting and Skype which seem to have eliminated the need for actual face to face contact.
But Skype doesn’t let you hug that friend you haven’t seen in ages. You can XoXo until thumbs are purple but texting doesn’t let you kiss the forehead of your brother’s new baby. Email messages are not the same as sitting in someone’s kitchen as they share a joke, or tell you their news. It’s just not the same.
Facebook, however, has promise. You can find those long lost friends and poke that relative who’s been quiet for so long, or post your address and an invitation to your next barbeque. Try it for yourself and rediscover the lost art of visiting. XOXO.
Back then my family used to do a lot of visiting, too. My family was huge (or at least it seemed huge to me). Dozens of aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents would get together at family reunions, weddings, barbeques and fish fries. Visiting: talking, joking and just hanging out. Those were the best times, seeing my parents become kids again in the presence of their elders and have fun.
Whether it was with my friends or my huge family, there seemed to always be something going on – something to celebrate, some function to capture with my Polaroid camera.
Nowadays, people don’t seem to do much visiting.
As I grew up, my friends in the neighborhood all moved away to begin their adult lives – off to college, off to get married, to the Navy, Army and Air Force. Scattered like leaves in the breeze.
My family landscape seems to have changed too. The older generation has gotten older or has passed on and the younger generation is not as good at the barbeque, fish fry, family reunion thing.
One could blame it on the 90’s when everyone concentrated on getting ahead, or the events of 2001 which sent people cocooning into their homes. We could also blame it on email, twitter, texting and Skype which seem to have eliminated the need for actual face to face contact.
But Skype doesn’t let you hug that friend you haven’t seen in ages. You can XoXo until thumbs are purple but texting doesn’t let you kiss the forehead of your brother’s new baby. Email messages are not the same as sitting in someone’s kitchen as they share a joke, or tell you their news. It’s just not the same.
Facebook, however, has promise. You can find those long lost friends and poke that relative who’s been quiet for so long, or post your address and an invitation to your next barbeque. Try it for yourself and rediscover the lost art of visiting. XOXO.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Define Your Own Success
When you first started out in your career, you probably said something like: I want to make Partner/Vice President/Sargeant/Broker by the time I’m 25/35/45. So you worked like crazy, completely focused on learning your business and mastering your craft, when suddenly you look up and find that you’ve made it. The company promotes you to Partner/Vice President/Sargeant/Broker. Break out the champagne, or maybe its Miller time but go ahead and enjoy your accomplishment, you’ve certainly earned it. Congrats! Woohoo!
Eventually the buzz passes and its time to settle into the new gig, learn the ropes and do the work. What may surprise you is that its not as great as you thought it would be. How did that happen? Its kind of like the buyer’s remorse for new homeowners. You’re looking at the white picket fence and thinking its worth the price but once you fork over all your cash and sign your name to a tremendous pile of legal documents, you’re faced with the reality of those big payments for 30 years!
The same principle could apply to your Partner/Vice President/Sargeant/Broker goal. You spent so much time focused on getting there, that you never stopped to think about what actually happens when you get there? The view from the top of your mountain may look very different than what you had envisioned. Its too late to turn back once you get there, but there are important clues on the journey to the top if we just slow down and notice the signs.
What do you do? What if you love the nitty gritty task management and being involved in the day to day. At your level, that’s par for the course, but one or two levels above may not be as involved. Would you be happy sitting in meetings day after day talking through big picture strategy and long term planning? Or would you long for the days when you could cross things off your to do list every day? Maybe. Maybe not. That’s important to note as it could lead to major dissatisfaction in the executive suite. Be sure to do your research and talk to people in the position you’re after and ask that “typical day on the job” question. Then plan your direction accordingly.
What about money? Money isn’t everything. Sure, it can solve a heck of a lot of problems and help you sleep a little better a night knowing that the bills are paid, but its really not everything. Let’s compare your local job to a higher paying position in the city. The pay scale for local, around the way jobs may be lower but will the thought of extra dollar signs be enough when you’re headed off to work packed on a train full of grumpy strangers at the crack of dawn? Or how about when your train is delayed and you’re stuck with those same grumpy strangers and you miss your kid’s school concert. Your kids will plow through that extra money before you can blink, but they would always remember your smiling face from the back row of the concert.
What about you? The bills are paid, the lights are on and the fridge is full. You’re able to make it to several school functions and your view is better than it was before your promotion. Itemized on paper, your new job has more pros than cons and it looks perfect. But something is still gnawing at you. Well, looks aren’t everything. Maybe its time to focus on home since you’ve spent so much energy focused on work. It may just be that youre ready for your next challenge. Just be mindful of the signs as you speed off to your next plateau.
Eventually the buzz passes and its time to settle into the new gig, learn the ropes and do the work. What may surprise you is that its not as great as you thought it would be. How did that happen? Its kind of like the buyer’s remorse for new homeowners. You’re looking at the white picket fence and thinking its worth the price but once you fork over all your cash and sign your name to a tremendous pile of legal documents, you’re faced with the reality of those big payments for 30 years!
The same principle could apply to your Partner/Vice President/Sargeant/Broker goal. You spent so much time focused on getting there, that you never stopped to think about what actually happens when you get there? The view from the top of your mountain may look very different than what you had envisioned. Its too late to turn back once you get there, but there are important clues on the journey to the top if we just slow down and notice the signs.
What do you do? What if you love the nitty gritty task management and being involved in the day to day. At your level, that’s par for the course, but one or two levels above may not be as involved. Would you be happy sitting in meetings day after day talking through big picture strategy and long term planning? Or would you long for the days when you could cross things off your to do list every day? Maybe. Maybe not. That’s important to note as it could lead to major dissatisfaction in the executive suite. Be sure to do your research and talk to people in the position you’re after and ask that “typical day on the job” question. Then plan your direction accordingly.
What about money? Money isn’t everything. Sure, it can solve a heck of a lot of problems and help you sleep a little better a night knowing that the bills are paid, but its really not everything. Let’s compare your local job to a higher paying position in the city. The pay scale for local, around the way jobs may be lower but will the thought of extra dollar signs be enough when you’re headed off to work packed on a train full of grumpy strangers at the crack of dawn? Or how about when your train is delayed and you’re stuck with those same grumpy strangers and you miss your kid’s school concert. Your kids will plow through that extra money before you can blink, but they would always remember your smiling face from the back row of the concert.
What about you? The bills are paid, the lights are on and the fridge is full. You’re able to make it to several school functions and your view is better than it was before your promotion. Itemized on paper, your new job has more pros than cons and it looks perfect. But something is still gnawing at you. Well, looks aren’t everything. Maybe its time to focus on home since you’ve spent so much energy focused on work. It may just be that youre ready for your next challenge. Just be mindful of the signs as you speed off to your next plateau.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
The power of a good haircut
It doesn’t matter if you’re a kid or a grown up, a man or a woman, single or married. Nothing beats a good haircut when it comes to lifting your mood or your spirit.
New clothes are nice and new shoes are cool too, but a new haircut can make you stand up straighter, hold your head higher, and make you see things from a new perspective. It’s incredible and it never fails.
When we take our boys for haircuts, it’s the same thing. I am always amazed at the transformation in their posture. For as long as the cut feels new they both make an extra effort to sit up straight, brush their hair and be a little neater with their clothes. A mother’s dream, at least for a day or two.
My sister in law took me for my first haircut. It was in the 80’s and she took me to her stylist for my first cut and style. It was a bi-level bob, a la Salt-N-Pepa and I’ve never stopped thanking her for taking me. Not only do I remember feeling trendy and “fresh” but I remember feeling honored that she cared enough about me to share one of her secrets to looking and feeling good. Days after the cut, it was time to rework the wardrobe to match the new do and the start of my journey into style.
In the 90’s, it happened again. Andrew was the man and TriBeca was the place. He loved doing hair and every time I walked out of his salon, my hair was supermodel stylish. Those were the days.
Today, I have that same feeling. I have a great new cut, an exciting new color and my hair dresser extraordinaire Vikki has inspired me to make some other changes as well. God bless my hairdresser.
If you need me, I’ll be at Macys.
New clothes are nice and new shoes are cool too, but a new haircut can make you stand up straighter, hold your head higher, and make you see things from a new perspective. It’s incredible and it never fails.
When we take our boys for haircuts, it’s the same thing. I am always amazed at the transformation in their posture. For as long as the cut feels new they both make an extra effort to sit up straight, brush their hair and be a little neater with their clothes. A mother’s dream, at least for a day or two.
My sister in law took me for my first haircut. It was in the 80’s and she took me to her stylist for my first cut and style. It was a bi-level bob, a la Salt-N-Pepa and I’ve never stopped thanking her for taking me. Not only do I remember feeling trendy and “fresh” but I remember feeling honored that she cared enough about me to share one of her secrets to looking and feeling good. Days after the cut, it was time to rework the wardrobe to match the new do and the start of my journey into style.
In the 90’s, it happened again. Andrew was the man and TriBeca was the place. He loved doing hair and every time I walked out of his salon, my hair was supermodel stylish. Those were the days.
Today, I have that same feeling. I have a great new cut, an exciting new color and my hair dresser extraordinaire Vikki has inspired me to make some other changes as well. God bless my hairdresser.
If you need me, I’ll be at Macys.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Set a Goal…. Then Wing it!!!
In talking to a friend last week, I realized something about myself. I’m a goal setter. I rarely make a move without identifying the objective, plotting out the steps and then methodically stepping through each milestone to achieve the goal.
That can be a good thing for most but for me it’s a weakness.
My husband says I overanalyze. First I research. Then I go out and buy a “how to do this” book, read it cover to cover… then think some more…. I ponder… I wonder… I seek advice and counsel from trusted friends… then I think some more. Only problem is there’s no activity – no measurable progress. I move at a snail’s pace, talk about it, obsess about it (this could take years)… THEN I make a move.
Back in the day, I got bored really easily at work. Boredom led me to job-hop in a time when that kind of thing was a no-no. Back then, in the 80’s and early 90’s, when my standards and requirements and expectations were really low I could afford that kind of freedom. Once I got married, had a house, kids (and a cat) my expectations rose higher and my freedom seemed limited.
Eventually I landed in a great job which I thought would cure my job-hopper tendencies. But after a few years I outgrew it and it was time to plot my next step. True to form, I started the research-ponder-wonder scenario and ultimately I made myself miserable. I couldn’t concentrate on work because I was preoccupied with what to do next, and I couldn’t concentrate on what to do next because I knew my work was suffering. Talk about miserable!
It didn’t help that there were people around me who were really happy at work. They were great people who were happy doing the same job for 10-20 years who would be happy to continue for 10-20 more. This was not something I could do…
Then one day while sitting under the dryer at the hairdresser mentally wrestling with what-to-do, what-to-do it occurred to me that I was wasting my time… Then I heard the voice of reason “Just keep swimming”, Dori said. You know Dori... The blue fish in Finding Nemo? (Yes, sometimes its important to listen to the voices of cartoon characters...) But I digress... LOL
Sure, it’s ok to set a goal. Sure, its ok to plan your next steps... just don’t obsess about them. Obsessing, over-analyzing and overthinking just waste time and energy. Too much of this focus on the future and you'll end up missing out on the good times that could be happening in the here and now. If you just keep swimming, you’ll probably end up somewhere better than you even envisioned. Just keep swimming. Work hard, do your best, let your light shine and keep the faith. Trust that there are angels around to do the heavy lifting.
Set a goal…. Then wing it!!
That can be a good thing for most but for me it’s a weakness.
My husband says I overanalyze. First I research. Then I go out and buy a “how to do this” book, read it cover to cover… then think some more…. I ponder… I wonder… I seek advice and counsel from trusted friends… then I think some more. Only problem is there’s no activity – no measurable progress. I move at a snail’s pace, talk about it, obsess about it (this could take years)… THEN I make a move.
Back in the day, I got bored really easily at work. Boredom led me to job-hop in a time when that kind of thing was a no-no. Back then, in the 80’s and early 90’s, when my standards and requirements and expectations were really low I could afford that kind of freedom. Once I got married, had a house, kids (and a cat) my expectations rose higher and my freedom seemed limited.
Eventually I landed in a great job which I thought would cure my job-hopper tendencies. But after a few years I outgrew it and it was time to plot my next step. True to form, I started the research-ponder-wonder scenario and ultimately I made myself miserable. I couldn’t concentrate on work because I was preoccupied with what to do next, and I couldn’t concentrate on what to do next because I knew my work was suffering. Talk about miserable!
It didn’t help that there were people around me who were really happy at work. They were great people who were happy doing the same job for 10-20 years who would be happy to continue for 10-20 more. This was not something I could do…
Then one day while sitting under the dryer at the hairdresser mentally wrestling with what-to-do, what-to-do it occurred to me that I was wasting my time… Then I heard the voice of reason “Just keep swimming”, Dori said. You know Dori... The blue fish in Finding Nemo? (Yes, sometimes its important to listen to the voices of cartoon characters...) But I digress... LOL
Sure, it’s ok to set a goal. Sure, its ok to plan your next steps... just don’t obsess about them. Obsessing, over-analyzing and overthinking just waste time and energy. Too much of this focus on the future and you'll end up missing out on the good times that could be happening in the here and now. If you just keep swimming, you’ll probably end up somewhere better than you even envisioned. Just keep swimming. Work hard, do your best, let your light shine and keep the faith. Trust that there are angels around to do the heavy lifting.
Set a goal…. Then wing it!!
Thursday, July 29, 2010
You’re always in my heart. Love Sy.
On a bright sunny day in 2000 my Grandmother Margaret died. She was my friend. I used to call her every couple of weeks and we’d just chat. She lived in Virginia Beach and we didn’t get to visit as often as we liked, so I’d fill her in on what was happening in my life. Grandmother was always happy to hear from me and I could hear the smile in her voice as I rambled on and she prodded me with questions. She had a twinkle in her eye, a great sense of style, a quick wit. She loved basketball and her New York Knicks and me.
After she died, her gold charm bracelet was passed on to me. The bracelet itself is woven with heart links and there are several heart charms. I wear it whenever I need to feel close to her, whenever I don’t think my strength will be enough. One of the charms is engraved with “You’re always in my heart. Love Sy.” Sy, or Simon, was my granddaddy and he bought this charm bracelet for her and inscribed those few words for the love of his life.
While wearing the bracelet recently it occurred to me how incredibly powerful those words are – worth so much more than their weight in gold – so to speak. I can’t find a single birthday card, or letter from either of them and I don’t have anything they’ve written… Just this charm and the words – You’re always in my heart….
They are a symbol of the love my grandparents shared and a reminder of the love they had for me. Those words have power. Our words have power, too. The power to pass on your love and your legacy to those you love even when you’re not there to say the words yourself.
I borrowed my friend’s book, The Last Lecture, by Randy Pausch. Randy was that brilliant and courageous college professor who died of pancreatic cancer. In chapter 14 Randy describes the instructions he left for his niece and nephew and how they should look after his kids after he’s gone. That thoughtfulness is his legacy and I am awestruck that his kids can pick up that book any day, anytime to hear how much he loved them – in Randy’s own words.
I wish I could have one more day with Grandmother Margaret, Aunt Naomi and Grandma Sophie … Thoughts occur to me and I pretend they were divinely transmitted from somewhere in heaven. I look at my kids and smile when I think of how much my grandparents would love them. I “hmph” and “mmm-mmm-mmmm” as I’ve heard throughout my life and wish I could hear again.
After I’ve gone my children and grandchildren may feel the same way about me. They may long to hear my voice and they may wish to know what I thought and how I thought and to confirm how much I loved them. That’s why I write -- so that when I’m gone I will leave a legacy of love. I write and with each word I release a little more of my heart. I'm convinced that as long as we share the love of our deepest heart, what will come back is the deepest love.
Just as Granddaddy said, “you’re always in my heart.” Love, M.
After she died, her gold charm bracelet was passed on to me. The bracelet itself is woven with heart links and there are several heart charms. I wear it whenever I need to feel close to her, whenever I don’t think my strength will be enough. One of the charms is engraved with “You’re always in my heart. Love Sy.” Sy, or Simon, was my granddaddy and he bought this charm bracelet for her and inscribed those few words for the love of his life.
While wearing the bracelet recently it occurred to me how incredibly powerful those words are – worth so much more than their weight in gold – so to speak. I can’t find a single birthday card, or letter from either of them and I don’t have anything they’ve written… Just this charm and the words – You’re always in my heart….
They are a symbol of the love my grandparents shared and a reminder of the love they had for me. Those words have power. Our words have power, too. The power to pass on your love and your legacy to those you love even when you’re not there to say the words yourself.
I borrowed my friend’s book, The Last Lecture, by Randy Pausch. Randy was that brilliant and courageous college professor who died of pancreatic cancer. In chapter 14 Randy describes the instructions he left for his niece and nephew and how they should look after his kids after he’s gone. That thoughtfulness is his legacy and I am awestruck that his kids can pick up that book any day, anytime to hear how much he loved them – in Randy’s own words.
I wish I could have one more day with Grandmother Margaret, Aunt Naomi and Grandma Sophie … Thoughts occur to me and I pretend they were divinely transmitted from somewhere in heaven. I look at my kids and smile when I think of how much my grandparents would love them. I “hmph” and “mmm-mmm-mmmm” as I’ve heard throughout my life and wish I could hear again.
After I’ve gone my children and grandchildren may feel the same way about me. They may long to hear my voice and they may wish to know what I thought and how I thought and to confirm how much I loved them. That’s why I write -- so that when I’m gone I will leave a legacy of love. I write and with each word I release a little more of my heart. I'm convinced that as long as we share the love of our deepest heart, what will come back is the deepest love.
Just as Granddaddy said, “you’re always in my heart.” Love, M.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
What would you do if you were laid off tomorrow?
What would I do if I were laid off tomorrow? I’ve been there enough times that I can at least partially answer that question:
1. First, you make the call to your significant other.
2. Second, you box up all your stuff and go home; cursing or crying.
3. Third, you do the math and estimate your future bills vs. expenses. (This is where the panic starts …)
What’s next? Usually it’s the traditional action plan: sign up for unemployment, put that old blue suit in the cleaners, and start making calls to line up a job just like the one that laid you off. Keep in mind that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.
If you are in the fortunate position to be employed today then take a moment now to stop and count your blessings. When you’re done, I challenge you to think for a moment… What would you do if you were laid off tomorrow? You will probably say 'I’ll follow the tried and true “blue suit” method'. But then the right side of your brain should be allowed to speak up, think creatively and fantasize about other possibilities. For example, I often fantasize about reaching out to Oprah and pitching her ideas for a new show. Or I’ll mentally outline the book I’d love to publish, or the makeover service I’d love to start. But usually that’s where it ends.
If I challenge myself a little further and think these ideas through, I could probably make one or all of them work. Take the pitching Oprah idea…. Write out a summary of my show idea, go to Oprah’s website, find an email address or producer contact and take it from there. See? Not so scary… totally doable. In my case, those ideas usually remain a fantasy, and then I get laid off and follow the blue suit method.
Wouldn’t it be great to think out of the box for a change? Look at American Idol, or The Apprentice, or even Joan Rivers’ new show, How’d You Get So Rich? … Joan recently interviewed the inventor of the Wee-wee Pad, Allen Simon, who is now a millionaire a hundred times over. What about Oprah? She’s a great example of the success that comes from hard work and out of the box thinking. The world is full of people who have followed their ideas to success and happiness. Why not you and me?
So today I am challenging you to let your right brain do the talking for a change. Be creative! Dust off those crazy fantasies and really think them through. Sit down with a crayon and a big sketch pad and design your next life. Do the research, write your notes, write your business plan, call someone in your network and talk to them about it and then keep adding to it. Do it now – whether you’re working or not. Outline how you would make those fantasies credible and real. Keep those thoughts in the forefront of your mind and if conditions arise you won't have too far to reach.
Hopefully, you won’t be laid off tomorrow (or ever), but please keep this in mind: If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, then wouldn’t it be crazy to keep turning to that old blue suit?
By the way, Oprah really is looking for new talent and show ideas: http://myown.oprah.com/audition/index.html
Think Big!! :-)
1. First, you make the call to your significant other.
2. Second, you box up all your stuff and go home; cursing or crying.
3. Third, you do the math and estimate your future bills vs. expenses. (This is where the panic starts …)
What’s next? Usually it’s the traditional action plan: sign up for unemployment, put that old blue suit in the cleaners, and start making calls to line up a job just like the one that laid you off. Keep in mind that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.
If you are in the fortunate position to be employed today then take a moment now to stop and count your blessings. When you’re done, I challenge you to think for a moment… What would you do if you were laid off tomorrow? You will probably say 'I’ll follow the tried and true “blue suit” method'. But then the right side of your brain should be allowed to speak up, think creatively and fantasize about other possibilities. For example, I often fantasize about reaching out to Oprah and pitching her ideas for a new show. Or I’ll mentally outline the book I’d love to publish, or the makeover service I’d love to start. But usually that’s where it ends.
If I challenge myself a little further and think these ideas through, I could probably make one or all of them work. Take the pitching Oprah idea…. Write out a summary of my show idea, go to Oprah’s website, find an email address or producer contact and take it from there. See? Not so scary… totally doable. In my case, those ideas usually remain a fantasy, and then I get laid off and follow the blue suit method.
Wouldn’t it be great to think out of the box for a change? Look at American Idol, or The Apprentice, or even Joan Rivers’ new show, How’d You Get So Rich? … Joan recently interviewed the inventor of the Wee-wee Pad, Allen Simon, who is now a millionaire a hundred times over. What about Oprah? She’s a great example of the success that comes from hard work and out of the box thinking. The world is full of people who have followed their ideas to success and happiness. Why not you and me?
So today I am challenging you to let your right brain do the talking for a change. Be creative! Dust off those crazy fantasies and really think them through. Sit down with a crayon and a big sketch pad and design your next life. Do the research, write your notes, write your business plan, call someone in your network and talk to them about it and then keep adding to it. Do it now – whether you’re working or not. Outline how you would make those fantasies credible and real. Keep those thoughts in the forefront of your mind and if conditions arise you won't have too far to reach.
Hopefully, you won’t be laid off tomorrow (or ever), but please keep this in mind: If the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, then wouldn’t it be crazy to keep turning to that old blue suit?
By the way, Oprah really is looking for new talent and show ideas: http://myown.oprah.com/audition/index.html
Think Big!! :-)
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