From the bottom of the barrel to the top of the tower. (and how I got there)

January 11th, 2010

As some of you noticed and inquired about (very sweetly and privately via email), I had a couple of weeks there around the holidays where I was down, down, down. Not just in the dumps, but I’d venture to say several feet beneath them. Sometimes, life does that to you. Sometimes it’s scattered showers. In this case, it was a typhoon.

I’d worked myself into a tight spot where pretty much everywhere I looked, I saw bad. Life looked sad and, to be honest, a bit hopeless. Work, writing, friends, marriage, kids, health, home…yep, all of it.

Over the course of the last week, it has all (virtually every bit) shifted – magnificently, magically, epiphanically, wonderously. I could wax thesaurus here for a good long while and continue to make up words that are creatively spelled, but feel right nevertheless. But instead, because I know times are a bit hard all around (and I know this because many of you write me and tell me so), I’m going to take a good look at this fantabulous shift. I mean, what if it can be reproduced, put into operation at will, bottled and sold (or generously given out for free here on this blog)? At the very least, what if it helps even one of you shift…if even just an inch. That would be nothing short of grand.

As far as I can tell, here’s what I did:

Cried.

Oh lord, how I cried. At first I tried to resist it, but then I realized that at moments when I felt really shitty and I tried to fight it, I felt worse. So, I got to the point where crying was like medicine, a huge release that promised lightness at its end. I’d just be sitting here at my computer, feel it coming on, welcome it hugely, shed somewhere between 1 measly and 1,000 sobbing tears – and then pick my fingers back up and get back to work, knowing that I’d moved one step closer to feeling like me again.

Reached out.

When the sadness first came upon me, I had this odd notion that I had no one in the world to talk to. And then, the weirdest thing happened, although it really wasn’t that weird. Without thinking, I reached out to a friend. The perfect friend – who didn’t really ask questions, seemed to be able to read my mind, held me up just enough while never doubting that I couldn’t use my own two feet and passed absolutely no judgment (she also has an incredible business and blog which was featured in the WSJ). And then? This light flurry of fantastic friends that have known me and loved me for years (some for close to 30) started to trickle in. They just had this sudden urge to get in touch. Blood may be stronger than water, but good friends kick major ass.

The funny thing was, I didn’t feel the need to talk to these friends constantly and regale them with stories of woe or complaint. I actually felt very quiet as I turned the dregs of life’s fridge into something delicious with all of my stewing. Small connections scattered about and occasionally some nice long conversations bubbled up. But, I needed and wanted to have time to myself – it was the knowing that the friends were there if I needed them that was is the saving grace.

Plucked.

No, not into the guitar (though someone just showed me an inspired iPhone app for the ukulele yesterday wherein your iphone becomes a ukulele). I mean ‘pluck’ as in luck, pluck and virtue. As I discussed in my posts about finding a niche and writing a proposal, I stopped complaining about the lack of work in this economy, and I found a way to fix it. I made my own way.

Now, mind you, I haven’t actually gotten any work from that niche or that proposal yet – I haven’t even rolled them out. But the shift in my attitude and the action that I’ve been taking has done something huge for me. I started to feel like myself again, I started to feel strong and in control and energized. And so what I did get was three other ‘big, exciting, knock my socks off’ kinds of jobs. Yes, high fives all around.

Pounded.

The pavement, the pedals, the sticky mat. As a dear reader reminded me (hence this addition), I ran, rollerbladed, biked and yoga’ed every single morning. First thing I did (pretty much) when I rolled out of bed – no matter what. There is nothing, nothing, like starting the day with an accomplishment like running five miles. And the sweat is just like the tears – cleaning things out, letting things go. And the meditative experience, the time to think and plan and dream and…

Let’s just say the cycle of movement is like fluid grease to stuck cogs in the heart, brain and gut.

Swallowed pills. (but only just enough)

Note: I am not a doctor and this is not a medical blog. I am in no way shape or form suggesting that you take any sort of pill or supplement without checking with a medical professional first (which I DID). I am not a medical professional. Just a woman who has a great naturopath and has benefited highly from certain supplements. You may NOT sue me or hold me responsible for yourself or your health or your mental state as a result of anything I write here. Got it? Good. So long as we’re clear.

Those of you who know me well, know that I go out of my way to put the purest of pure things into my body. Usually that’s food related, but it stands true here as well. That said, I have friends who take pharmaceuticals to help them with all kinds of things, and I’m glad for them. And my kids just had pneumonia (yes, both of them – see? I told you things were bad) – and they took antibiotics and wow, did they get better fast. So…no judgment.

Is there a part of me that is worried about telling you all that I needed a little help of the pill variety in this case? Yes. I like to think that I can do it all myself. And I want you to think that too. But then I thought, Well that’s pretty mean! I would never come down on any one of my friends for doing this! So why be so rotten to myself? Huh, interesting. So, I’m telling you, laying it all out there.

I have taken two herbal/food supplements in deep times of stress that have really helped me. They’ve helped me fly (which is huge) and they’ve helped me make it through some hard days. Et Voila: L-Theanine (an amino acid that reduces stress) and Holy Basil (an herb that reduces stress and promotes feelings of well-being). For me, yes, they do both of those things. I use them when I need a little help…and it’s gratifying to see that as the days go by, I’ve needed a lot less help. Haven’t had any in some time now. And we all know how nice it is to get feedback like that. It’s like emotional ROI.

Wrote.

You bet your bippy. I never stopped. Some of it I shared with you here, some it I kept to myself (you can thank me later). Some of it was dark, some of it was brighter than bright. Writing is how I process, learn, move through. It is a great discharge. It imparts a great sense of accomplishment when it’s done (no matter how long, good or misspelled). I blogged, I made lists, I dreamed, I ranted, I worked. I wrote. Because that who I am and that’s what I do.

I should also add here that I read – gathering other writers and their words around me, a little coven of prolification and literary expression. Highly, highly recommend The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Oh, and I became addicted to Kelly Diels’ blog, Cleavage, told her so and made a wonderful new friend. She is the consummate woman, writer and ball-buster. If you’re into amazing Buddhist nuns, try Pema Chodron.

Self-pleasured.

Read into that what you like. But, no matter how bad I felt, I did something that felt good, to me and me alone, every single day. Still doing it actually (I mean, really, why stop). Why did I do this?

Because my instinct is to wallow in displeasure, to beat myself up because things aren’t going well – and I wanted to do the opposite.
Because I am the only one who is going to give me this pleasure for absolute certain every day – and if someone else happens to do something to or for me that gives me pleasure? Then that’s just a fantastic bonus.
Because I believe that I deserve it.
Because when you make yourself happy in one spot of your mind or body, it’s contagious. Seriously, it’s like all of your other bits can’t help but join in.

Faithed. (otherwise known as ‘knowing thyself’)

When it came right down to it, there was a little voice, a knowing, that I was going to be okay. That everything really was going to work out. Sure! You say. It’s easy for you to say that now! Yes, it is. But I said it then too, I said it all along. And I think this is the most important thing. Sure, life will continue to move up and down and sideways – some days will be great, some will not. But I’ll continue to move forward. True or not, one of my dear friends said, “You know, people kill themselves over less then what you’re going through.” That thought never did cross my mind. I mean seriously, kill this? Deprive the world of this?

Ha! I guess the final piece of this climbing out of the dumps, then, would be a nice healthy slice of self-esteem pie. You wanna piece?

Image credit: Unhindered by Talent

Filed under How To, Writing | Tags: coping, freelance writing, hard times, self pleasure, self-esteem, Writing | Comments (19)

My ass just tapped me on the shoulder.

October 2nd, 2009

I’m standing on the other side of the abyss, the good one. And I wanted to let you all know that the ground here is high and dry, nearly heady.

Because I read your comments carefully – and because, as far as I can tell, we’re both human – I’m going to guess that at one point or another you’ve stood on the scary side of the abyss just like I did before I got to the cushy side.

You wanted to do something, you needed to do something…but the canyon that stood between you and accomplishment just looked too damn big, wide, menacing. Impossible, you said. And sat down.

My alarm goes off at 4:30. I jump out of bed and look out the window. It’s snowing. I smile smugly at the snow. Bring it, I think smugly. Pull on my layers of Capilene, my bright orange hat, my running shoes. And head out for an eight mile run before I go to work.

This used to be my norm. Miles run, laps swum, heart pounded, sweat drenched – before the sun rose.

And then my body abruptly took on new super powers forms of exercise: first, it grew another human being; then, it made milk. Needless to say, my body was preoccupied with performing miracles. Too busy to hit the trails or the pool.

But, last spring, something changed. My ass literally tapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘Um, I’m thinking we should shift things back into high gear…you?’

Which is when I realized that I was standing on that cliff. On the scary side of the abyss. I had a lot of reasons why I couldn’t take the leap:

I’m too old.
My body forgot how.
Once you get past a certain point, it’s just pointless.
I don’t have time.
I’m so frickin’ tired.
Have you seen my parents? (I love them and they’re beautiful, but they don’t have super model bodies. I’m just sayin’.)

In the middle of this tirade, I ran into a good friend who had just finished a long rollerblade, and she told me, “It gets you right here”, and she grabbed her butt. “Makes it burn,” she said. And my ass took notice. And, then it tapped me on the shoulder again. I took the bait. I didn’t think, just started to move again.

I had really believed all of my reasons why I couldn’t do this, but they just weren’t true. Bodies are amazing – they snap back in a way that is extraordinary. Minds do too. My ‘get up and go’ tape started playing again, as if I’d simply hit play again after a long moment with the pause button down. We both quickly forgot how long that moment had been.

Now, it’s been five months. And someone recently told me that my belly looks the same as it did when I was 16. Is that really true? Um, ish. Is it a miracle? Nah. I just think that I got way too comfortable on the pitiful side of the abyss. Too shlumpy to realize the infinite possibilities hanging out across the way.

Sometimes life feels like a series of cliff dives – scary, exhilarating, progressive. The above experience being just one of my abysses. For you, it might be finally going to law school, having a baby, getting up on that karaoke stage, or – drumroll, please – writing (creatively, professionally, bloggingly).

Whatever it is, I’ll save you a seat on the other side. Believe me, if you don’t already know, the view is fabulous.

Image credit: Scampercom

Filed under How To, Writing | Tags: creative writing, how to write, self, self-doubt, self-esteem, self-improvement, Writing | Comments (21)

How do you self-promote in hard times?

December 5th, 2008

I’m so pleased to offer up a dear friend and colleague to you all today. Bonnie Marcus, Women’s Business Coach Extraordinaire, is taking the healm with this fantastic guest post. As we’re faced with a deluge of grim news, Bonnie takes us back to the heart of the matter, pumps us up and sends us out to do what we do best, what we’re meant to do. Enjoy…(and make sure to check out Bonnie’s blog).

Promote Yourself with Passion and Confidence

Why is self promotion so difficult for us? The fact is that we just don’t feel comfortable “bragging” about ourselves and so we often come up short when we attempt to promote ourselves. Because we are not comfortable in the way we are promoting ourselves, we are also less effective.

So is there a way to be effective and feel comfortable when we sell ourselves and our services?

Here’s the GOOD NEWS! Yes, there is a way to effectively promote yourself and feel comfortable doing it.
Here are some statements to consider:

People respond to passion and excitement
People respond when you are authentic and sincere
People like to hear stories

When you craft your message to be more personal and more passionate, people respond in a positive way. Wouldn’t you rather hear someone speak with excitement about themselves and their profession and how they got started in business than hear another awkward formal elevator pitch? Do you tend to tune out those elevator speeches after a while?
It is possible to create a message with such passion and sincerity that no one will be able to tune you out. Your message is too compelling to ignore.

Tap into your passion and purpose and craft a message to promote yourself and your services. Tell a story. Make it conversational.

Here is an example of a passion and purpose statement:

Selling has always been one of my passions. In my 25 years of corporate experience, I have held many sales positions and delivered sales training programs. Sales training programs are great. They help people to know what to do during a sales call; how to use the right questions, how to close the sale, how to talk about features and benefits, all of which are worthwhile.

But none of the sales programs focus on what needs to happen first. What inner work is necessary before you start the process or pick up the phone? What work is necessary to get over your fears and limiting beliefs that are holding you back from promoting yourself and your business? I have found over and over again that this is an issue with many talented people. They have so much to offer yet are hesitant to promote themselves.

As a certified business coach, I assist people with this inner work and I am so excited when I help someone overcome these barriers and successfully promote themselves and grow their businesses.

Now, what do you love about what you do? What is your purpose? Think about the above questions and take a few minutes to compose your message. Read it out loud.

After you’ve read it, if you say to yourself, “so what”, then start over. You should feel the energy when you read it.

Let this be an ongoing exercise. Continually review your message and modify or add to it to keep it exciting and interesting. Practice saying it out loud until you’re comfortable. Practice saying it to others. Note their reaction. Put all your energy and passion into the content and delivery.

After all, this is YOUR story. No one else has this story. It’s your unique look at the passion and purpose in what you do.

Filed under How To, Marketing, The Business | Tags: Blogging, bonnie marcus, business coach, marketing in recession, marketing writer, self-esteem, self-promotion, women's business coach | Comments (9)

when writing is used for bad things

May 5th, 2008

Please tell me this is joke and that this book doesn’t really exist in the world.

This children’s book was written by a plastic surgeon, Michael Salzhauer, and here is its mission: to help kids deal with their mommy’s transformation due to plastic surgery.

Yes, I’m sure it is a shock when mommy comes home covered in bandages, when her breasts point to the sky and don’t move when you try to hug her, when she can’t show any emotion because of the botox pumped into her face, when she no longer looks like your mother.

Thank goodness mommy doesn’t need to find the words to explain it all away, now she can just shove this book at her kid.

Here’s an idea. Let’s tell women that aging is an incredible journey. That beauty is so much more than droopy boobs and wrinkles. That their worth increases with their life experience and everything they accomplish each day.

Let’s tell children that there is more to life than the way they look. That doing good and productive things in the world is what’s important. That there are people in this world who need food, clothes and shelter – and giving to them would be a worthy repository for their extra money.

Writers (and all people)! Use your words for good.

Thanks to Brett Blumenthal of www.sheerbalance.com for the heads up.