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Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Are you What you Wear?

I've been listening / watching/ reading Carol Tuttle's "Dress your Truth" free program.  She is a bubbly, energetic woman who makes me smile and think.  Her system however so far has be baffled.  I am one who loves tests.  I know I'm strange.  I do though, I like the feedback I guess of knowing that I actually know what I think I know.  . . or not.

Anyway, she has all of this delicious visual (I'm an extremely visual girl) material that she asks you to respond to, to understand what reaches your basic 'energy'.  Her system is linked to Fire/ Air/ Water/ Earth energies.  So I watch, I enjoy, and I find in every one of them, parts of who I am and parts of 'definitely not me'~  Eventually she expects you to classify yourself as one of them for a primary energy type.  I can't.  I fluctuate so much that I can't come to a solid, "oh yes, that is me" determination.  Some are closer than others, I definitely know which are NOT me.

This type of profiling isn't new to me in the least.  As I said, I love tests, silly tests, hard tests, iq tests, personality tests and I enjoy seeing if what they say my results are, actually are the ones I agree with .  (That quality alone would make me a type 4 or Earthy person).  No one can tell me what I am better than me, is my mentality.

So how valuable are these tests?  I embrace all the 'systems' for their good qualities.
I love choices, and detest being narrowed down to a couple of choices (a strong type 1 or Air).  Meyers Briggs, (INFJ)  Love Languages,(Quality time/Conversation)  Astrological signs (Strong Aquarian), Seasons (Autumn or Strong/Warm) I love classifying myself and those I care about.  It helps me understand myself and the world about me better, but . . . does it also limit me?  Do I put myself into a slot and thus negate all other possibilities?  Are my labels (LDS/Mormon, Conservative, Life-Coach, Music-Coach, Florist, Wife, Ahma {Grandmother}. . . . . .. . ) binding me or freeing me, or both?  What about yours?

Today Carol's instruction was about wearing black.  That most women can't/ shouldn't pull it off.  Only type 4 women florish in it.  It is most of our staples.  She tells 75% of the women (going with the simple assessment that out of four types each will be 25%) to toss a good portion of their current wardrobe.  How would you react to that instruction?

Are you the type who is open to trying a whole new way of dressing, of purchasing, of even starting pretty much from scratch?  One woman talked about the fact that literally 90% of her wardrobe was not her correct type and thus she tossed it.  I can't imagine that. Perhaps I'm just stubborn and too much of an introvert for my own good.  Or. . . perhaps I'm just the immobile Bryce-Canyon, solid, strong. . . Earthy.  

Friday, June 20, 2014

Reconsiderations and Ministrations

As I said, life gets crazy.  But only when we allow it to.  What will I allow in my life?  I've often said that I think best when I'm on my feet putting out metaphorical fires.  Perhaps it i s the adrenalin, or just the deadline, other or self-appointed.  At any rate, if there is not a certain moment that 'finished' must be cleanly mentally stamped on a project (finished or not), I tend to move it to the "good" column rather than the "best" one. 

One of the good things, is this blog.  I began it believing that I wanted to use my life-coaching tools to help others with pitfalls and problems that I'd already slipped into and found a life-like out of.  I was attempting professionalism, a step-back intimacy and the added burden of editing and reediting content and language.  This left me with a distaste (I'm not an editor) for evening beginning the next idea, because it would take much more time out of my priority box than I had allotted. 

So I've re-thought. 

Some of the reasons are that I've noticed that the blogs that most people tend to identify with the most are those where the writer isn't a 'professional' all decked out in the grammar-policed best, but one in which the personality shines through the slog of information and sameness to present something candid and real and relatable. 

I also found that in writing for several other facebook pages and ghost writing a slew of other projects, that I do best when I simply type from my heart and if necessary bleed emotion all over the screen through my mentor and nemesis, the keyboard.   I promise I'll still try to spell-check and be mostly grammatically non-threatening, but I don't promise I'll not over-use ellipsis. . . as I am wont to do. . .or make-up words that suit what my intended meaning is, whether or not Webster has of yet decided they are print-worthy; I don't promise that my thoughts will flow with precision and be deliciously notated or even that they'll be correct to the minutia. 

What I am going to attempt is to tell some stories of my world, whenever I get around to it or remember to do so.  Sometimes I'll share things I've learned, sometimes I may just ask if there is an answer for something I'm yet struggling with.  I may just get excited, write a few new posts, and forget about it again for years. :: smiles :: (oh, and I'll certainly NOT promise not to put in my double colonitis - action indicators.   actions held within double colon sets to indicate tone, mood, clarification.  eg. :: smiles :: )

Truth is, I used to write.  I don't much anymore, not anything of any significance.  I may just toss in some of my old stories.  I miss writing with an old group of fabulous people we used to call ourselves by many names, but the one I liked best was a little place we called "The Sandbox". 

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Fluid time; static time and flow.

Time is a fluid thing.  It washes through our cupped palm like water.  No matter how we try to hold on to it, it still escapes us a drop at a time.  Yet. . . it also sticks like pulled taffy, lengthening when we most want it to snap and sticking greedily to precision when we wish it would last.

I just read one of my favorite author, Mitch Albom's, "The TimeKeeper".  This very principle was keenly expressed through the vivid tale of Father Time himself.  I doubt I'll ever look at my own hourglass in the same way.

I remember when I was a child, I dreampt that I could stop the world for just one night.  What could I do to make a difference?  I was fast asleep, but I remember the dream as if it was a Hollywood Academy Award winner with sets, scenery, costumes and special effects that weren't even in existence in the 60's.  (I'm dating myself aren't I?)  I remember the longing I felt when I realized that I had the power to do anything, change any life, make a difference.  With that power, I had the power of flight and of instantly being wherever I wanted to be instantly.  Think it and I was there.  What did I choose? 

Before I tell, let me also qualify that I believe strongly in the constitution.  I believe in freedom of choice more powerfully than any other principle I think.  I also believe that there are consequences that can't be re-chosen after a choice is made and acted upon.  That said, I don't care to have this turn into a discussion on the second amendment.  However it was my dearest wish that if I could do anything, I'd remove every type of gun and personal explosive device from the face of the earth.  Gather them all up and bundle them up in a sort of fiber bound impenetrable bag and sent it into the atmosphere.

What if time is more fluid than we imagine?  What if we just breathe through the moments, relishing the good ones without wasting the joy in a pool of wishing for more?  What if the difficult ones were breathed through, like labor pains with the belief that something incredibly worthwhile waited to take a gulp of life at the next moment?  Would that change things? 

So I was going to apologize. To whom I'm not certain.  I don't yet have a large readership, and even if I did at one time, a two year hiatus quite possibly doused it. To myself perhaps?  I'm a finisher and leaving something undone is against my better nature.  Can a blog even be finished? Of course not, it is open-ended, a continuous flow. . . kinda like life. 

So. . .hello, again. 


Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Just Believe

I would be remiss if I didn't write just a little about the most beautiful holiday seasons.  For some, they are joy-filled, exciting, perfect.  For many others, too many, they are stress-filled, over-taxed and sometimes very lonely.

Much of the season is created by our circumstances.  When I was happily married with little ones, it was stress-ful, certainly, but it was full of joy and anticipation and fun.  Then when that family splintered, I was left with the feeling that I had to 'do it all'.  See every Christmas show, participate in every bit of music, over-spend and over-do to make up for the 'brokenness' that was now to be our 'new normal'.

Then the next year, I fell into apathy.  Painful, painless apathy.  I just didn't care.  The tree was purchased, but never decorated until Christmas Eve.  The bare minimums were the rule as it was 'his year' for the children.  It was lonely and sad, but there were still moments of joy.  Even then.

These days have fallen in to a more low-key affair.  With a new life and new people in that life, our traditions too have morphed.  Some that no long serve our family have been relegated to the next generation to carry on.  Some have been abandoned all together.  Some I even now hold on to tightly.  All of that is good.

We enter each season with hope, even if that hope is buried deeply and like Ebenezer, shrouded by too many years of hurt to shine forth.  Still, we hope that this year, something will be different, better, perfect.

I learned something.  I learned that what I believe, is what is.  When I believe that I am unloved, unneeded and unnecessary, I am.  Simply because I make myself transparent and I don't put forth the effort to brighten the hours of anyone else.  When I believe I am loved and surrounded by wonderful loving people, I am.  Simply because they respond to me in turn.  It is a simple principle when put into action.

So I believe.  I believe in the goodness of humanity.  I believe in magic and miracles and the sweetness that surrounds my world.  I believe there are daily bits of wonder to notice and embrace.  I believe that there are waiting angels to support and inspire and assist when needed most.   I believe there is beauty and good and perfection in the tiniest of things.

This season see if what you look for might be wonder, hope, service, magic and let the stress, grumpy people, commercialism and gluttony pass by unremarkably.  It will be a season to remember.


Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Reasons and Excuses

So. . . there are reasons that my last post was months ago, but there are no real excuses.  I seem to find the time to do other things that I have 'no time for'.  I think that the reasons, while valid, still are only excuses for a deeper lack of motivation, inspiration perhaps, or priority.  Yes I believe that is it.  I am motivated, and WANT to write, I want to assist others with the tools and ah-ha moments that come so swiftly and often, and yet I don't 'get to it'.  I definitely have constant ideas swirling around, a list of 'posts to write', so that isn't it either, but priority might just be it. 

Of late, I've discovered a new sense of transparency.  A sort of sense of willingness to be more open with my flaws and needs and ideas and disquiet.  Here are some of my 'reasons' and understand that they are in no particular order other than what pops into my head first.

  • A flood that left us without a kitchen for five months (still not completely back to normal) 
  • Two weddings
  • Two funerals
  • A new granddaughter born at 24 weeks and 1 lb 8 oz and a subsequent trip to Texas
  • Chaos
  • A belief that 'no one reads this anyway'
  • Too many church callings and responsibilities
  • Too many business obligations and demands
  • New opportunities and writing venues
  • A series (the 15 things) that requires graphics, which in turn require a goodly amount of time to produce and an inability, scratch that, an unwillingness to do just a half-job. 
While not every reason, those are the ones that come first to mind.  So. . . I neglect, postpone, promise myself I'll do it 'tomorrow' and don't.

It must be tomorrow.

I have been writing though, writing in other places about my faith, my interest in uplifting women and my employment.

Here are a few: - Growing Faith, Strengthening Families, & Building Community - Who We Are, What We Believe, How We Live: Glimpses into LDS Life ~ A Committed  leading resource for women to enhance lives, careers & relationships.

Also Facebook pages of the above.  Join and 'like'!  Because I know you just can't get enough of me.  Hah.
So I will get the series started.  Soon.  I promise.


Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Forgive Quickly

Forgive Quickly
I will when she does!  I’ll forgive, but I’ll never forget!  Fine, but not until they’ve paid!

often am not sure about why I’m angry exactly. 
I have found however, that when I pause and remember this quote I heard years ago, the anger, the bitterness and the fear often melts into a sort of guilty knowledge that I’m only hurting myself more.  It went something like this:
Text Box: Refusing to forgive
Is like taking poison
And expecting the other person
To die.

It seems to simple, and yet at times it is really difficult to just let go.  To know that my reliving, making excuses and wallowing isn’t  helping at all.  Not even a little.  IN the case of a relationship I want to keep valid or in tack, it is pouring salt into the open wounds.  Someone also said, you can be right, or you can be happy, sometimes you can’t be both.  I sorta like happy better.  So when I choose to quickly forgive, I don’t waste time.  Especially when I know I’ll eventually ‘get over’ it anyway.  Life is so short, and the longer I live, the shorter every day, every precious moment gets. 
Forgive quickly.  Move forward.  Let the love be the antidote to the poison of bitterness, anger and unforgiveness.   Choose to be happy.  It really is that simple.

Friday, February 10, 2012

It Is What It Is

It Is What It Is
Or is it?

Life is hard.
Making money is hard.
Relationships don’t work.
It is too easy to quit.

It is what it is.

I don’t live in a mansion, but I love my home.
I’m  not a dance teacher with my own studio, but I love my voice students. 

I’m not a size four, but I’m enjoying being a six.

It is what it is. 

Anything can be made to be worse than it is, or better than it is, just by where you choose to focus.

Yes, something may be a certain way, but are there no other choices, Really? 
Can one thing be shifted, even a little?  

For me, sometimes the phrase is a sigh.  It is my crutch, something I lean on so that I don’t have to look deeper and fix what is broken. Then other times it is a support, a soft place to land when I consider what my choices are, and what they are NOT.  Sometimes just the ‘knowing what you can change, and what you can not’ is a warm blanket allowing me to release responsibility into hands far stronger than my own.           

What is it for you?