It’s a journey, not a life sentence

by BarbPosted on March 23, 2017 Posted in Uncategorized — No Comments ↓

The past few days have been mom and grandma duty and then off for a week of conferencing. The goods have been visiting family and seeing the art festival I have loved since a child. The bads … traveling on a super limited budget and the news we received yesterday. 

Our 38 year old deputy chancellor for education for the state died. He was a colleague. He was a professional friend. He was passionate about what he did. He was too young to die. 

Because the cause, while yet undetermined seems to have been potentially preventable I discuss with colleagues why we don’t take better care of ourselves to which one responded…who has the time?  I am certainly as guilty as this person for doing this but oh how this struck home. Not having the time, or making the time to take care of myself is not a badge of honor. Surviving neglect is not something to have to be proud of.

This got me thinking about all the things we do because we can’t or don’t take the time to veer off our path. When I am lost, I may not stop to consult a map or ask for directions. I figure that i will figure it out while I go farther and farther away from where I made my first wrong turn. Embarrassed? Afraid?  No….waiting for Siri to redirect. But Siri isn’t going to do that with my life!

Well hell, stop! Turn around!! …I… am on a life journey and I can change course any time I want to. I do not have to be lost for life!!

I am in the middle of several job searches and semi-finalist for at least 3 dean positions. It is the next logical step on the journey. But it is also why I’m asking myself whether I’m on the right road. I know that I wrote about this a week ago but suddenly something happens, someone much younger dies and I remind myself…hold the fuck on – there are NO do-overs!!  Am I  aligning with my passion and purpose or just taking the next logical step? Only one feeds my soul!!

Illusion/Delusion

by BarbPosted on March 17, 2017 Posted in Uncategorized — No Comments ↓

I have said, mostly to myself, that I want a relationship where I can be completely real and vulnerable. But, what I wish for doesn’t always appear as I’d hope it would. 

Yesterday, I was at the Love of Literacy luncheon where author Diane Ackerman spoke and showed the trailer of her book (soon to become movie), The Zookeepers Wife. If you don’t know the story, and I didn’t, I would recommend it.  …the trailer brought me to tears. It wasn’t what was portrayed, but the images and bits of story that were steeped in compassion and commitment. I was a baby…before I caught myself and said no…not the place for this, before realizing that yes.  Yes, maybe it was indeed. 

The yes was finding that I have compartmentalized so much, that I have ceased to feel. I have walled off the extreme and the uncomfortable. I have extracted the deep feeling me, shaving her off, layer by layer, until what lay behind was a sterile, sun-bleached impersonation of what I had the illusion to be. It also paired with knowing that once I began to feel again, I abdicated my responsibility to someone who believed in me, and supported me, until he no longer agreed to be the mirror for my illusion of the whole person I dreamed of being. 

Completely real and vulnerable? I value any relationship where I am allowed that freedom. Honestly, there are few, neither personal or private. I am not looking for the accolades and praise that many of us feel we have spoiled the millennials with, but rather the authentic reckoning of respect and acknowledgment that comes from another who is willing to share their time and presence, as equals. Oh hell, why is this so hard?

I have punished myself with the words of others and then when I found support, I punished myself with my own words. Maybe, just maybe it is time to bring that authentically real and vulnerable relationship home, from me to myself. 

It is time to stop embracing what might be, or might not…what I deserve, or do not…the story as I make believe it is, rather than the story that is. 

I deal with a lot of reality. But, do you like me? Did I do a good job? Do I like myself? I can teeter that fence like a master or just as easily straddle it with feet in the water on both sides of the fence. A master of delusion. And yet it is not moving me forward. It is spiraling me back to what I wish, to be protected positive, or to rationalizing against what I wish, protected negative. 

Vulnerably open. I guess it’s just me. Vulnerably real, sometimes I like it and at others I don’t.  (But it’s still better than pretending to live a happy life when it’s not). I think that when I start to let myself see what it means to be real, it will be time to let others in too. Until then, seize the day! My life is what I imagine and act as if it is. Or maybe it is just an illusion. 

What is wasted time?

by BarbPosted on March 17, 2017 Posted in Uncategorized — 2 Comments ↓

I had a lot to say, this morning at 3, and 4. But then I just made notes in my journal and went back to sleep. 

And then again at 2pm, racing down I-95, my mind a buzz, trying to dictate notes into my phone that I’d get to later.  I envisioned a brilliant post.  Poignant. Touching. ….…Unwritten. 

All of my feeling and motivation temporarily shoved into notes that I hope I don’t forget exist but even if I am reminded to revisit them, I wonder if the emotion and feeling that rose inside me as I was compelled to create them can be rekindled. If history is any teacher, the answer will be no. 

Why unwritten? I arrived back at work to discussions and meetings and emails and grading and driving home and dinner and pets and faculty evaluations and…it’s 11:30pm. And I need to try to sleep because I have to pick up my daughter in Miami at 8am. While I could try to force it, it was too good (at least in my mind) and I don’t want to cheat or minimize it’s worth. I hope I’ll remember!

My friend, coach and mentor, Nancy Levin, said when talking about the end of her time as event director for Hay House, “Hiding behind my job, left no room for anything else.” And even though I’ve felt the pull, those words gave me validation and a way to succinctly package it. All that busy, gives me time for busy….it doesn’t give me time for anything else. It doesn’t give me time for me. Because I am not my job. 

Two things I want to make note of before I go peel my contacts from my eyes. 

First, from yesterday’s post I want to make clear that I’m not blaming God or religion or my parents and I’m not angry at any of them either even though maybe I might be a little angry with myself for forming the beliefs that I did. But, I am also going to live myself enough to work my way forward. And if you don’t know what I’m talking about, please read my previous post. 

Second, I have a voice in my head that has always talked to me. Not in the, I hear voices or it’s someone else sense. But sometimes she’s my mean girl. Sometimes she’s a voice of reason, or of anger, or of patience. Often though, I hear her say to me things like, “you” need to see things from a different point of view or “you” need to stand up for yourself. In this sense, if I am trying to catch myself and write about me and I. If I slip and say that you should really understand…what I really mean is that I should. 

It’s progress and insight every day!! Today was a big one…I hope I remember to share!

Me, God, and Confounding Beliefs

by BarbPosted on March 16, 2017 Posted in Uncategorized — No Comments ↓

Let me first say that I’m a little bit tired. I had a busy day. But, if I’m going to make any headway, I’m going to have to forge ahead.  If it sounds like a good idea, I should probably go ahead and do it before I rationalize my way out of it, and you can quote me on that!

What I want to consider is an idea that came to me and actually made some sense the other day.  Blame it on God and religion.  Now I know that this is true for a lot of things and a lot of people and I never thought I was one.  But, here I go, none the less.

If our shadow beliefs are mostly formed by the age of 10, then I have to think back and consider what went on back then.  Not to drag out the boring details, but in my opinion, it was a pretty uneventfully normal childhood.  Normal family unit, mother, father, sister, brother, and dog.  One of the things that was always a constant was our involvement in our church.  My parents weren’t the hell, fire and brimstone type, but they did believe that we should attend every Sunday and Holy Day.  My brother and I also went to a Catholic Elementary School.  And I never thought of God as a anything but just God.

But, God, and the church, were judgmental.  I remember never being able to wrap my head around the whole idea of confession.  Weren’t mistakes OK?  Hmmm. Apparently not.  At least not some of them.  I remember being given a list of acceptable but not so bad sins.  These were the ones that I thought it was OK to confess.  Whether I did them or not.  After all, I couldn’t be perfect, not in God’s eyes.  But I also learned to not consider doing anything worse than the acceptable.  Not when I was young.  Not that I’ve ever admitted to.  So, maybe God was a little scary.  Or may be it was more and it was the fear of being judged as bad or wrong.  Maybe I would go to hell.  What then?  Hmmm.

I remember being about 8 or 9 and walking to a neighbor’s house with my mother.  Our neighbors were mostly elderly couples and one of them was sick, I believe.  Well, I also had a period where I was surrounded by a lot of death.  My grandfather and two aunts died within months of each other when I was six.  I remembered, with them, the priest coming to the house and the religious services associated with their funerals.  With our neighbor, there was none. So I asked my mother if people from other religions went to heaven, after all, didn’t God love us all?  She couldn’t answer me.  It bothered and confused me, but I decided not to press the issue.  According to my family, we were on the right side of God so why question that….even though I was sure there was a side door to heaven some where.

Oh, and let me just add a side note about St. Peter and the Gates to Heaven and Judgement Day and if you haven’t done enough good you are condemned to purgatory.  Kind of stuck in an endless loop where you’ll never pass go or collect $200. No sir! Didn’t want that.

I’m sure that not everyone who was raised in a religious family has come away with the same perceptions.  I can’t even say that others in my family share mine.  But…I also may not be the only one who’s felt this way.

But I think that what effected me most were the stories of Jesus and Easter.  Every room in the house, had a crucifix.  I often had a crucifix that I wore on a necklace.  Jesus on the cross was a constant reminder, he died for us.  He died for me.  He died for my sins.  Well, if I sinned and I was born with sin then what did that say about me?  But in thinking about the stories, I was particularly struck by the one on Good Friday when Jesus fell to his knees and begged his father to take this cup from him, but not as my will but your will be done. And later before he died on the cross, asking why God had forsaken him.

Without knowing it, I had always believed that God had a plan for me.  That if something wasn’t meant to be, it wouldn’t.  But, that if something was meant to be…meant for me to go through; if it was God’s plan, then it was out of my hands.  So for years, I’ve smiled at those who made fun of me, because they were really good people and if they were mean, it was what I deserved…part of God’s plan.  I tolerated being told I was ugly and stupid by people I loved because I believed, it was part of God’s plan.  I have blamed myself and tried and tried again to prove myself worthy because if no one else recognized it, I mustn’t be (worthy)…because God has a plan.  For many years I have tried to find intuitives or astrological readings that might tell me what I’m supposed to do or be.  Teacher I would hear, only to be deflated because teacher has become so hollow and shallow.  Deflated, my shoulders would fall…it is part of God’s plan.

As I write this, I would tell you that someone who talks like this is slightly crazy.  But as I consider my story, it makes sense.  It is not a belief that has lived on the surface, but in the shadows.  One that has caused me to shut off and abandon myself and my truth.  I never asked what my truth was…after all, wasn’t it out of my hands.

So, as I said yesterday, I’m truly doing some heavy digging and some deep diving.  I am not sure what I’ll unearth, but I do know that it feels good to ask the questions and it feels good to remind and reinforce my new belief.  God, a Higher Power, lives inside each of us.  And there is no Higher Power that would want me to go through my life unhappy.  My Higher Power is one of love, kindness, and compassion.  So I will use those as guides, not only for those I interact with, but for myself.  I will turn to my inner power with kindness, compassion and love and use them to guide me on my journey forward.

Crossroads

by BarbPosted on March 15, 2017 Posted in Uncategorized — 6 Comments ↓

I have reached one of those decision points in my life.  The crossroads where I must decide which way to turn. To decide to stay the course or to navigate in a different direction.  And which direction?  So, what do I do?

In reading and listening to much of the wisdom on what to do when life feels at the crisis stage, the message is clear – turn inside and listen to your heart.  Tune in to what your body tells you to be the right direction.  Make a plan and do that.

Well, here’s the problem, I never learned to listen.  So as far as I’m concerned, my body is the equivalent of a deaf-mute.  It feels that something is off, it just doesn’t know what its saying or how to listen. In a sense, I’m the blind leading the blind.  (Well, I identified three senses that aren’t working.)

Here’s what I’ve decided to do.  I’m going to go on this journey, and I’m going to take you along for the ride.  It may be boring or it may get wild and hairy, I don’t know.  I’m not yet there.  But I want to share a little of why I’m choosing to be public:

• At one point, I put this blog aside because I wasn’t sure what I wanted it to be, messed with the settings, and fell out of love with it.  [Not an excuse now, this is just about message]
• At another point, I read comments between two colleagues about one’s website where it was stated and defended that it was not JUST narcissistic blog-type ramblings but a “serious” website.  That made me pretty insecure since I wasn’t sure whether what I was writing could be considered narcissistic.  Well, to hell with wondering because it isn’t, but may be it is.  I’m putting myself out there, but who’s to say that what I’m going through won’t resonate and may be even help someone else.
• Have you read the posts and books by those super peppy 30 somethings?  They all seem to have their lives together. (yes, that may be a touch of jealousy) And they have a lot to say about how to put your life on the right track.  How to succeed.  Oh heck, just follow your passion!  Well, I have to be honest but I’m 56 and I don’t really know what my passion is.  I guess I said that already but how does one discover their passion?  I guess that may be we can figure that out together.
• Being where I am in my life, I don’t think I’m alone in the way I feel about wanting and needing change.  Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t think that everyone looks at their life the way I do, but I don’t think I’m alone.  May be it’s that old mid-life crisis.  May be its the feeling that there is more that I still need to do, to learn, to give.  May be its just saying, I know this isn’t all there is.

So, I think that maybe enough.  It’s enough to get started.  Enough to explain the journey.  Enough to invite you along for the ride!

Deciding, once again, it’s time

by BarbPosted on March 8, 2017 Posted in Uncategorized — No Comments ↓

So, today I’m going to re-emerge and come out of the self-imposed cocoon I’d resigned myself to.  The past year and a half I have kept myself confined within a space that feels more and more like a prison every day.

I told myself that where I am…”isn’t that bad”.  And in all honesty, it is not.  But “not that bad” is not a reason to stay.  Not that bad is not a reason to be afraid of moving on.  Not that bad does not mean that it is working – for me!  And that’s all that really matters.  Is it right for me or am I selling myself short?  Am I playing small?  Am I keeping myself confined where many would love to be but simply doesn’t work any more?  Well, I wouldn’t be rambling on if I thought that “not that bad” was where I was meant to stay.

So….let me re-emerge and fly! Let me face a bit of fear because I don’t know quite yet where I’m going.  Let me dance because it feels good to be free.  It feels good to create.  It feels good to face fear.  It feels good to have options and opportunity and optimism.  It feels good not to keep hiding and pretending.  Stay with me, because this journey is just getting started!

Speak the Truth

by BarbPosted on September 9, 2016 Posted in Uncategorized — No Comments ↓

I loved, absolutely LOVED, Elizabeth Gilbert’s post that went viral. A letter to the public saying, “this is my truth.” It was stunning in the way that a work of art or debutante or starlet might take your breath away. 
I loved it for her ability to bare her soul and say, ‘I will not live a lie’ (or something like that). It is what I call being “real and raw”!  
Real and raw…that is when I feel most alive. That is when I’m most in touch with my inner core. 
But it’s not what is always valued. It is not what we are encouraged to be. 
A few months ago I was interviewed for a job and asked the question, “have you ever done anything that would embarrass the university?” To which I answered an emphatic NO! But on second thought, who knows! I’m not embarrassed by my actions, but might they be embarrassed by this? Would they encourage the alignment of values? Would they encourage a party line?  
Hmmm. It gives me pause, but not that long. At this stage of my life if I can’t be who I am then I don’t think it’s a job I really want. 
I’m going to jump here to the idea of schools and schooling because after all, that’s what I do to pay the bills.  
When I started teaching, I had the opportunity to create and innovate. It was the students’ outcome that mattered. But since then we have, increasingly tried to fool-proof school. Right strategies. Right curriculum. Right day. The problem is that the “right kids” are a mixture of backgrounds and abilities. Right doesn’t work! Well, it only kind of works because it creates those who look for what’s right, instead of what works. It creates those who try to figure out, do I fit in rather than do I stand out. 
I want to teach the students who say, I don’t understand or I don’t like that way. The ones who will speak up and challenge. The ones who will speak the truth and in turn allow and teach others to do the same. 
Speaking the truth. We seem to be getting there…slowly. But slowly is better than not at all!

It’s not about the abs!

by BarbPosted on September 7, 2016 Posted in Uncategorized — No Comments ↓

So as I debate should I or shouldn’t I, and I crop that perfect but not perfect picture, an ad pops up…Sale Now – 14 day detox! HA!  My inner bitch has a chuckle. That’s SO not what this is about!

I’ve been working out pretty consistently for a little over a year now, even though the first few months was with a broken foot, I still claim the time. 

I’ve gone through highs and lows, loving it and hating it and still I wonder…where are my abs?  For heaven’s sake, I know they are in there somewhere!  (but pictures don’t lie, even if they are laying flat and unable to breathe)

But that’s not really what this is about. You see, I realized that my abs are hiding because they aren’t what I’m focusing on…kind of like a few other things on my life. 

For me, ab work outs are like a slow death. I would honestly sooner slit my wrists. I’d love to see them, but to work that area makes me want to run and hide. Which usually, I do. So I was wondering…why?

Well, they aren’t fun. In fact, they are hard. I would rather whine…and wine…than do the things I need to do. Like working at some other things consistently. It is easier (in the short run) to whine that I can’t, than to actually try. 

And here is the parallel. Life. And what I want.  And what is “hard”.

How often do we know what we want but don’t follow or finish the path to get there because it is uncomfortable while we are on it. It is easier to whine. It is easier to say that it wasn’t meant to be than to suffer the discomfort of trying. 

Or worse yet, trying and not getting there. After all, what would failure say about us?

We forget that even if we don’t reach our goal tomorrow or next year, we are a lot closer than if we’d done nothing. 

This isn’t about the search for abs but about my search for strengthening my “try”. 

My try muscle is the thing that lets me give it a go. It’s what I need to build, by working it out. It’s about knowing that as it grows, nothing is lost. And it’s about being in charge, or trying to be, of the direction I’m going instead of leaving it to hope or chance or the universe. Sorry friends, I believe that magic needs our active participation. 

So, may be the muscles aren’t fully developed or yet picture perfect, but when I try, I’m a whole lot farther than when I don’t.

May be, just may be, what I want to go after is actually worth giving it some attention, and some work, risking not getting there, at least not yet….but giving it a try!

Never really ready

by BarbPosted on August 22, 2016 Posted in Uncategorized — No Comments ↓

So, it’s been a long, long time since I’ve written here and lately it’s been calling to me, which is interesting because I have been finding it hard to write even in my journal. 
I had thought that I’d like to update my page because…well, I don’t like the way it looks. But getting started with words is going to bring me a lot more satisfaction than being frustrated with templates. So…here it goes because you know, you’re never really ready. 

A lot is going on, has gone on, while at the same time nothing. I have heard people talk about this type of blog or post as one where someone just puts their life on display and doesn’t serve a purpose. I hope that’s not the case. 

My purpose is to empower and hopefully engage while at the same time, figuring some things out for myself. 

As a “woman of a certain age” (and I hate to go there because I don’t believe it defines me at all – I’m 56) I feel like I’m caught in the middle of a whirlwind. A whirlpool would probably be more fun, but I digress.  I have an established career that has gone pretty well and I am very thankful for…and yet, while I should probably be looking forward to retirement, that is still a long way away, I’m looking for what now or what next. As a teacher, teacher educator and university administrator, I find myself in the midst of the every changing and rarely budging world of education. What lights me up is talking about individuality and uniqueness. Helping students find and hone their individual gifts. Finding ways for inspired exploration and connection. And yet, there is such a push to minimize originality and strain the practice to a set of numbers. That’s about as far from inspired action as I can imagine. 

So what else is going on? The youngest is back at college and I am left with a large, empty-nest…except for the five fur babies left in my charge. So in addition to my search for inspiration, I’m determined to find my inner fit girl. I know she is hiding in here somewhere and may be its my way of finding something I can control, but I’m determined…

So, I’ve looked around and here’s what I see. I see lots of young, stunning women who are fitness coaches and health coaches. I also see a brilliant, young generation of personal coaches, lifestyle and business. It gives me hope for my daughters’ generation that they will have roll models. And then I look at the women my age and they are stars. They are accomplished and polished. They have also been doing this awhile. But what about those who reach that certain age…and it doesn’t really have to be mine…who look around and wonder, what now, what next? I’ve got this thing done but now how do I turn on and tune in?  I hope this isn’t really all there is!  

So that’s my path and my journey…I hope you’ll come along for the ride!

Short and Sweet

by BarbPosted on February 14, 2016 Posted in Uncategorized — 2 Comments ↓

I’m tired.

After one heck of a physically and emotionally draining week, I could feel it under the surface…I had a post in me just waiting to come out.  By the time I left work, battled traffic, went to the gym and made it home, I was numb.  The words had buried themselves deeper rather than coming to the surface.

I think about all of the wonderful women who I follow and who affirm the need for self-care.  I’m not sure I’ve cared for myself, but I’ve not felt pressure to take on anything else this weekend.  The numbness has faded but I’m left with the aftermath…and I’m still tired.

My body has also not been my best recuperative companion of late.  I want sleep and it says, “No!”.  At times it does so gently and at other times more harshly.  The end result is still the same.  This lady could use a few good 8 hour nights.

On the positive side, I made it to the gym 5 of the 6 days I wanted to workout last week.  Thursday night I felt a migraine coming on and by the time I made it home, I was sick to my stomach and all I wanted was sleep.  I’ve not lost any weight, but it will come.

As for the “thought it was a good idea” poetry goal…well, not so much.  I believe I wrote 2, may be 3.  As the stress built, the flow that I count on was strained and awkward.  Forcing a poem isn’t how I write.  I open and they flow.  Last week, not much flowed.  I was bound and gagged to a presentation I had to make on Friday.  Ten minutes of hell was my part and then it was this “white girl” on a panel with 5 “multicultural” faces.  I was defending my program’s right to make changes that are needed.  The rest, only wanted to tell me and everyone how it should be without touching the one 3-hour class.  So, I tried to paint the big picture…no one seemed to listen, at least it felt that way.  I’ve spent the weekend mostly numb.

So much for short and sweet.  I guess the words or the story was just waiting for me to give it an opening.

On my way to the gym on Friday, after I left work later than usual, and fought through our growing traffic nightmare, I considered all the reasons that I should go home and not to the gym.  Exhaustion.  Pets needed walking.  Food needed to be made.  It was SO easy for me to think that I shouldn’t.  Until I realized that it was my way of making myself pay.  I was unhappy with how I felt and instead of wanting to do something that I deeply wanted to do, I wanted to punish myself or martyr myself by denying myself.  Was that a real eye opener.  I went to the gym!

This week, I’m only promising the gym.  Planning on 6 days.  I have a busy week at work with an “inspection team” on campus the whole time.  They will need attention.  Days will be VERY long.  So no other pressure, just caring for myself through my workouts and eating well.  After all, its Valentine’s day…I should start with loving myself!