An Open Letter to All Parents

Dear Parents,

Let me introduce myself. I am the mother of a beautiful and wise 20 year old boy. Over the course of the last three years, my son survived 18 hospital visits due to severe Crohn’s Disease, 3 hospital born infections that he will have forever, countless pain pills, IVs and shots, a surgically removed colon, a colostomy bag, an intestinal resection surgery, and just recently a skull and brain injury accident. Do I have your attention? Good. Not that I wanted your attention this way.

A few moments of your time are all I ask.

I know you think that all of your actions are in the best interest of your child, but I want to share some lessons learned in the hope that you stop doing some of those seemingly, well-intentioned things. I was forced to stop. I hope you choose to.

Please stop over-scheduling your child with tennis lessons, piano lessons, karate, and the other activities that all your neighbors’ kids are doing. Kids need time to explore, create adventures, play, and imagine. They are only little for a few, short years. Allow them to build their natural curiosity on their own schedule.
They have time.

Please stop preparing them for college starting in the 6th grade. In fact, please stop preparing them for college at all. If college is in their future, they will prepare themselves with their natural born gifts and talents. They will not need you to write their college essays for them, and they will not need you to force them to volunteer, take AP classes, work a part-time job, and take every honors class they can so they can have one hell of a college application and attend a prestigious university.
They have time.

Please stop inserting the story you have in your head about how your child should progress in life. Your children are not an extension of you. They each have their own road to travel complete with joyous celebration and heart wrenching failure and loss. Don’t save them from failure. Allow them to travel independently and arrive into life perhaps a little scraped up and beaten down, but with a smile on their face from the lessons learned and the wisdom that you cannot give them.
They have time.

Please stop rushing them into adult life. Allow them the beauty to linger awhile and enjoy the freedom of a fading childhood. They will soon have all the same issues, responsibilities and demands as we do. Why rush them into that?
They have time.

And lastly, we live in a world that is totally made up! Complete with arbitrary rules and timelines and age definitions. We live in a world that dictates to us when and how and where our kids must be at any given time. Who made up this world we live in? Where did these rules come from? Our children should be prepared for the most important of life's lessons--- to find happiness and love in a world riddled with uncertainty. And if we stop doing some of things I mentioned above, they have time to do just that. 
They have time.

I Don't Want To Know

I Don't Want To Know

I know things I don't want to know.
I hear things I don't want to hear.
I hear them through purple curtains that sling from right to left, left to right, designed to compartmentalize the stories, the songs, the symphony.  But the curtains don't do their job.  There is no separation here, there is only the illusion of private journeys.  I hear everything. 
Remove the curtains, so all can view the parts that previously were discordant voices that must transform themselves into a miraculous euphony. For we are a tribe and should sing together. It's not that.

I know things I don't want to know.  I know what TPN is,  I know C-Diff, ITP, CMV.  I know what Flex Sig is, Ostomy, Ileostomy, Ileom, Pick lines, J-Pouch, G-Pouch, Colectomy, Remicade, Humira, Dilaudid, Dificid, Flexeril, Vancocin, Lialda, 6MP, Asacol, Lyrica.  Do you know these things?

I know what the beeps mean, especially the long, drawn out, slow beep... the beep that means there is air in the line.  I know the people that come rushing to that sound.  I know the colors that change on the monitors, the codes called over the speakers. I know the resounding, long, rhythmic beep of air stopping to the lungs.  I know the faces of the others that sing that same song.  I just know....

I see things I don't want to see.  The turned down smiles of the kind nurses when they see it's not working. They try.  I see.

I thought we already defined our time by before that and after that.
I was wrong.
Our time is now defined by before this and after this.
And we're not After This yet.

I know things, hear things, see things that I don't want to. 

Driving The Future

There are certain days that mark both a beginning and an end of something large.  You know those days.  They are bittersweet with the conflicting feelings of joy and sadness swimming together in  the vast container of your heart.  Yesterday was one of those days....and the splashing around is lingering into today.

Those of you who read my blog know that I am comfortable sharing details of my life that some might feel are inappropriate to share in such an open forum.  Perhaps I am comfortable to do this because I am an open book, and feel that if I learned or felt or experienced something deeply personal that maybe somebody else is also feeling or experiencing something similar and might benefit from reading my thoughts on the subject.  Or, perhaps,  I am simply narcissistic.  I've been called a megalomaniac once.  Hell, I don't know.  Either way, this is what happened yesterday.

My son nailed a job in Santa Monica a few days ago.  He's a server/busboy/delivery person/doanythingthebosstellsyou at a Thai restaurant in Westwood.  For the last year, his car has been safely housed in my garage waiting for this day.  The deal was this....
Mom:  Get a job, make some money and the car is yours.
Him: Moooom, it's hard to get a job without a car.
Mom: I know.  Do it anyway.

He did and I knew the feeling he would have when he accomplished something on his own would be something he would remember for the rest of his life and perhaps even change his life.  I knew this because I was guilty of making things too easy for him his whole life.  He rarely had to work hard for anything.  Yes, I was THAT parent.  I didn't realize it while I was doing it, I only realized it once our entire world exploded and we were forced to drastically change direction and re-evaluate every position, decision and action.  No more easy.  No more gimmes.  No more coddling and giving in.  Life doesn't hand you things just because you want them.  "Work, damn it, and the car is yours.  Oh, and by the way, you're paying for your gas, and insurance. Oh, and did I mention that if you lose your job the car comes back?"  Yea, I've now become THAT parent. 

I got the call yesterday morning, "Mom, they want me to deliver tonight and I need to come down and get my car."  He was thrilled.  I was petrified.  You see, for the last year, Noah was in a very safe environment in Santa Monica.  He didn't have wheels so he couldn't venture out too much.  There was some comfort and safety in those circumstances for me.  Without getting into the details of the situation, you're gonna have to trust me on this one.  I liked the fact that he was a bit grounded in a sense.  But a deal's a deal.

So he took the train down from LA yesterday to fetch his Jeep.

His dad was kind enough to get it serviced and cleaned for him (thank God it started!).

We frantically got him insurance (thank God for Progressive and their willingness to take risks.... although it comes with a price tag).

As Noah printed out his insurance card and gathered some belongings into his car, THE feeling(s) came over me. At once I was so incredibly happy for him that he was growing up... had a job, going to college, paying for his car.  And then the panic filled me.  He can go anywhere... he can do anything.... I cannot control his environment (by the way, I never could...I just thought I was!). 

I stood outside by the front door, as he got into his car.  I watched him carefully adjust the mirrors, put his seat in the correct spot, plug his music into the place he plugs his music into and I waited for the car and my son to drive into his future.  He stalled a bit.... I could tell he was a tad nervous since he hadn't driven in a year.  I was nervous for a plethora of other reasons.

And then the car moved.  He had a huge smile on his face but his eyes also spoke to me, and then he stopped and looked at me again and he waved.  And at the moment, I lost it.  It was a very defining moment.  My son was driving into his life, a life of his own.  A life he will navigate independently.  A life of his making.  A life that I will hear about in brief phone calls and random visits home.  It was the beginning and the end of something large. 
I can't shake it off me this morning..... how something as silly as a car could hold so much symbolic meaning.  But it does.  I miss him more this morning then I have ever missed him.  I think I will miss him this way for the rest of my life.  I am also so incredibly proud of him!  And he knows that. 
So I will end this blog with a Irish blessing that I used on a different blog..... It means so much more to me this time around:

Noah,

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
May the rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

A New Kind of Paralysis: The Ben and Jerry's Syndrome

During this time of year it is often the case that I find myself looking back at the past year, and also attempting to venture into the future of the year ahead.  It's not a resolution type of introspection, as in what can I improve or conquer this year that I wasn't able or didn't want to last year.  It's more a question of what are my choices ahead for the upcoming year.  What did I choose last year and what do I want to choose for myself this year?

Some believe that everyone has an equal amount of choice in their life.  I believe that on some level, but not on all levels.  On the one hand, I think that everyone has the choice to be happy, but happiness has varying degrees depending on who you are and what you want out of life.  So, I tend to argue that everyone has varying degrees of choices in their life.  Some people can choose to retire at 30 while others can't.  Some can choose to live in a mansion in Bali and others can't.  Some people have the wherewithal to become brain surgeons and others don't.

As I look at my own life, I feel both blessed and cursed to have an abundance of choice. Blessed, because with so much choice brings a freedom to choose from a plethora of adventures.  Cursed, because I find it a paralyzing abundance.  If I had to choose between only two flavors of ice cream, well, that would be easy.  Give me 100 flavors and watch me stand, wide-eyed, confused and unable to decide.  Damn you, Ben and Jerry's!

So, here I am. I have created a life that presents me with many options to choose from.  Many adventures to explore.  Varied and exciting opportunities are in front of me.  And I am suffering from the Ben and Jerry's syndrome!  Not only can I not choose, but I am frozen.

There is an Hasidic saying that often helps me during these times...." Everyone should carefully observe which way his heart draws him, and then choose that way with all his strength."
In fact, I have lived much of my adult life adhering to it exactly.  So why am I struggling this year?  Perhaps this last year was such a whirlwind of activity and emotion.  I experienced almost every emotion one could... from incredible elation down to the pit of helpless anxiety.  Perhaps this new kind of paralysis is masquerading as simple exhaustion, and my brain cannot make really big decisions right now.  I reached my BIG DECISIONS quota last year that was meant to last for a few years.  Don't really know.  What I do know, as Bertrand Russell stated, "Nothing is so exhausting as indecision, and nothing is so futile."

I will wait.  I will continue to feel blessed for the freedom that comes with abundance of choice.  I will not judge myself for having the Ben and Jerry's syndrome at the moment.  It will pass, and I will, in time, figure out which flavor suits me.  For the moment, I will just take small tastes from them all, until that euphoric feeling of, "YES, this is it" melts all over me.

And lastly, I will dwell on this  Rumi quote..... "Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love."

Make it a great day,

Michelle

A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage

Last night I stuffed wedding invitations and began the first draft of my wedding vows.  Twenty years ago I did the same thing.  I was married for ten years to an awesome man, father and one of the most compassionate and kind souls on the planet.  I've remained very close to my ex-husband since our divorce almost 12 years ago.  I consider him one of my best friends, a confidant, and partner in life, and I know that we will walk a journey together till death do us part.  So, why did we divorce?  Sounds like I lived up to my vows from 20 years before, doesn't it?  The details of my divorce are very private, but I will go so far to say that however compassionate, kind and awesome that man was, I didn't feel like he was mine.  I felt that he belonged to someone else... someone he hadn't met yet, but needed to.  And he did.  And he is happy. 

Since then, I never fathomed getting married again.  I could not reconcile vowing to feel a certain way for the rest of my life.  I couldn't understand how anyone could remotely promise anything to anybody beyond the immediate present moment.  People change, people grow, feelings morph and alter, and priorities and visions constantly shift.  The constant and pounding waves of life are relentless and what our truth is for the present moment can look very different come the next day or 15 years out.  Lastly, I could not see a good enough reason to get married.  I had my beautiful son, I could make my way financially, and I saw no purpose to a piece of paper from the government tying myself to another being forever.  The whole institution seemed ridiculous and hypocritical to me for a myriad of reasons.  I found myself cringing at other people's weddings when they looked into each others eyes and vowed to love each other with their entire being, every moment of every day for the rest of their lives.  I wanted to scream out, "Oh hell no you won't'!  There will be days you want to pull his hair out, toss his clothes into the street (for no other reason than that you are bored out of your mind), and run as fast as you can to the nearest bar so you don't have to look at him for a few hours!"  I apologize to the engaged out there, don't mean to burst your love bubble, but there WILL be days like that. 

Fast forward to March, 2012.  As he was on one knee with the shining diamond glaring at me and that all important question in the air,  I found myself wanting to throw up.  I don't remember much of what happened that early evening on the beach, but I do recall waving my hands in the air, backing up from him and saying No, No, No over and over again until my eyes teared up and a very sure, very calming, very confident YES slipped from my lips.  As the ring glided onto my finger, the realization that I was getting married for real hit me like one of those boulders by the sand in Cardiff-By-The-Sea.

What changed in me that I was able to allow myself to re-enter the marriage institution?  It's not that my views have changed regarding marriage.  I continue to believe that vowing to feel a certain feeling and be a certain person for the rest of my life is still bunk.  I continue to believe that I don't need a piece of paper to keep a man around, and I still believe that people grow, change, morph and that the saying as feelings grow they become stronger is not necessarily the case.  What changed in me was the realization that I was committing to a process of being with another person.  There is a difference.  I came to peace with the fact that I am not committing to being the same person he fell in love with for the rest of my life.  I am too old to believe that.  I have been 10 different people over the course of my life, given my experiences and my changing values (thank god!).  I have come to understand that I will be committing to include him on my individual walk of life, and he will be including me on his.  We may want to walk in different directions at times, and that is OK!  I am committing to always finding him when that happens and walk a few miles with him on his path, until the trail bends and he walks a few miles with me on mine.  Finally, I have come to peace with the phrase, till death do you part.  My life is more than half over.  I want to spend the second half with THIS man.

So, maybe I've come to terms with marriage for all the reasons I've stated.  Or, perhaps, he did some secret-army-interrogation-magic-mindmelt-thingy that he learned in the military to get me to change my ideas about marriage.  Wouldn't surprise me if he did.  :)

Make it a great day!
Michey

The Story in My Head

I am packing up my son's bedroom.  And no, he is not here to help me do so.  This is not the way the story in my head went for the past 18 years.  The story in my head was always that we would pack up his belongings together, laugh out loud at the tiny discoveries we would uncover as we opened drawers and found childhood treasures long forgotten, reminisce and romanticize events during his growing up years that seemed so serious then and only now could be seen as minute, laughable pebbles on the trail of his life, and then take him shopping for dorm necessities, then a road trip to a 4 year university, drop him off, cry as we were leaving him, cry all the way home and then change his room to an art studio or some other underused place in the house.  That was the story in my head.  That is not HIS story.  I don't know if it ever was.

I have learned more in the past 4 months than I have learned in the past 10 years combined.  I have learned more about healthy detachment to ALL the stories in my head, and what separates reality from distorted thinking.  I have learned (relearned?) what true compassion, tolerance and acceptance is.  I have learned (relearned?) how strong we can be when we are faced with no other choice but to be.  I have learned (relearned?) that no matter how hard something is to face, that you will miss 100% of the shots you don't take. And I have learned more about TRUE love, REAL gratitude and TOTAL appreciation than I can express in words on this page. 

Most of all, I have learned how to deeply, unconditionally, from the depths of my being, embrace change, reset priorities, be spontaneous and release all expected outcomes.  We are given one life to live... and like video games where your actions and choices affect how the game progresses and results, the outcomes are endless.  Isn't that what makes them so fun to play?

The journey of our life is a theater and we improv our way through it. My child is teaching me this daily.  And I love him for the gifts that he is bringing to me and for his wisdom he is bringing to the world. 

My son has been an inspiration to me, and his strength and fortitude has strengthened my family.  Yes, I am packing up his bedroom today, and he is embarking on the rest of his story.  I can't wait to see how it unfolds, and I will be right there in the front row, eagerly anticipating the next chapter....

And Noah.....
May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

PRAY ME THIS

I don't pray.  I don't know what to say, what words to use, who's listening.  I sometimes talk to my departed dad and ask for guidance and strength, as well as any influence he may have in making things in the universe work out the way they should.  This is about as close as I get to praying.  It works for me. And perhaps some would say that was real praying.  And perhaps they would be right.  I really don't know. 

Tonight, someone wanted to pray with me.  She was a person of Christian faith,  close to me, and who knows me and loves me.  I agreed.

She took my hands in hers, started talking to God and asking NOT for things to be perfect, NOT for the RIGHT outcome, NOT for what I would specifically want, but something else entirely. As we were holding hands, she asked God to allow me to be STILL so that I could be open to receiving the message He was trying to send me.  Of course, she didn't know what message that was, I certainly didn't, but nonetheless the words were effortless for her.  Not just effortless, but flowing and stunning and gorgeously graceful. What enthralled me in her delivery of this prayer was her complete belief, one hundred percent faith, that it would work.  She glowed as she was praying (I know prayer protocol requires that my eyes be kept shut in prayer but I couldn't help myself but look at her, plus I'm a horrible rule follower). 

As she was talking (praying), I found myself welling up.  At first, I felt a tingle and an energy go up my spine.  And then the flood gates opened and tears flowed and I lost it.  I don't know what that was about, why it hit me the way it did.... It was a guttural response on some level that I cannot explain.

Whatever overtook me at that moment, I want to honor.  I don't know what it was. But it was something important.

I think I need to be STILL, to figure it out.  And dad, if you're here, help me out.

Your loving daughter,
Michey

31,536,000 seconds

So, another year has passed us by. A year, 365 days, 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes, 31,536,000 seconds. Gone forever. Nope, can't call a do-over, can't change your actions, your emotions, or your behaviors. Can't take back something said in a moment of frustration and anger, can't change a decision you made on the 4321st hour of last year, and you certainly can't relive the glorious 995,000th second of 2011. All of that doesn't exist anymore. It's in the past now, as it should be, as it's supposed to be. For better or for worse. And I like it that way.

My Nana taught me to never live with regrets. She told me that she regretted the majority of her life. She questioned why she didn't do the things she really wanted to do. She stated that if she had the chance to do a do-over that she would make all different decisions. Right before she died she told me to LIVE and live deeply because you don't get a second chance. "Dance, Mich, and don't stop dancing, even if you fall down," she claimed. (She was a dancer, always wanted to be on Broadway and she should have been)

I greatly loved my Nana. She was a foul mouthed, outspoken, brash, sexy, strong, opinionated woman (wore 4 inch heels well into her eighties - street credit in my eyes). She once said to me, while I attempted, without success, to breast feed my son, that I should give up trying because "only peasants breast feed their babies." In my younger years she advised me that I should always have lunch in a hospital cafeteria in hopes of meeting a nice, Jewish doctor. That same opinionated, outspoken woman, who (even though she was nuts) I thought LIVED her life HER way, did not. She died with regrets and a broken heart. That knowledge broke my own heart, and I vowed to stay true to my soul and my reason, and live my life without asking for moments back.

Don't get me wrong, I'm no angel. I have done things in my life that would not be described as wholesome (as a special person in my life often likes to remind me). I still do from time to time. But I do so with my Nana's blessing, the fact that we go around only once, and the knowledge that out of the 31,536,000 seconds in a year, I'm dancing through all of them, good and bad, without regrets, and not asking for do-overs.

Bring on 2012!

Make it a great year!

All my love,
Michey

The Top Ten

It's been quite awhile since I have blogged. Don't know why, exactly. It's not that I am at a loss of things to say (as my inner circle would attest to). I think it's more that the thoughts that I do have lately seem twisty, like a snake curled up in an unexplainable way, where you can't determine the beginning or end of it. A month away from everything can scramble you up a bit. But I think that is the whole point, isn't it?

After my month long journey, I've seen things differently, or have been reminded of things I once knew, but got lost in times of busyness, and boredom. Here are some things that I know for sure from my experience:

1. I can do nothing, and it still takes an entire day to do it.
2. It is possible to not think about work.
3. Getting things done has historically been confused with worthiness.
4. Sometimes you must change your course, and frighten others, to be true to yourself (a reminder).
5. There's always a next big thing, and that next big thing can be tiny.
6. They can take everything I have ever done and created, but they cannot take the things I haven't thought of yet (a reminder).
7. Moving forward, detached from details, timing and deadlines.... Liberation exists somewhere within here.
8. Focusing on producing and not on happiness is all kinds of wrong.
9. All the same emotions one can feel while working (anticipation, excitement, producing, accomplishing), can all be felt on a random beach on any day without an agenda or a goal (ask me how one day).
and finally,
10. Not working for one month has been one of the single, most hardest things I have ever accomplished. And I consider it one of my best accomplishments to date.

And a bonus one:
You can fall in love with a fish named Herman.

It was a good trip. I'm not a new person or anything radical like that. I'm still Ms. Workaholic. But the difference is that I now know for certain I don't have to be Ms. Workaholic to still feel worthy and proud of who I am. And THAT, my friends, has made all the difference.

By the way, headed to Bora Bora next.... to work on the next 10.

Make it a great day!

My Love,
Michelle

I Yam Who I Yam

Today I start my month long, personal journey. I am filled with a mixture of excitement coupled with fear. First, I have never taken a month off of work in my entire life. Never. The most I've taken is 2 weeks off at Christmas, which really isn't time off at all. If you recall, it took me "2 Weeks to Peace" last year. At that time, I threatened a complete month off. That time has come. Second, I am traveling alone.

Can this be done? Can I really unplug for an entire month? Will I panic and run to the nearest internet cafe to obsessively check my mail? Will I be able to leave my cell phone in my hotel room when I take a walk on the beach? Am I able to be alone, in my head and in my heart.... am I courageous enough to peek into those places? Don't know. Won't judge myself either way. I yam who I yam and that's who I yam.

My plans are to travel to the Caribbean and do some island hopping......Nassau, St. John, wherever the wind moves me, and whoever has a boat going somewhere. I also plan on returning home to Key Biscayne and hopefully see some old friends. Maybe jet down to Key West for a few days.... who knows.

It's been one hell of a year, I turned 45, accomplished some big stuff, and my son is about to be 18 and is off to China. Off I go, to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

Stay tuned.... I plan on writing a lot while I am gone... I might share some. Don't judge me either way.

Make it a great day!

Mich

An Ugly Number

Ok, so I'm hitting the true mid-life number on Tuesday, and I've been thinking. I've never been one of those people who get depressed by their age milestones. Forty didn't bother me at all. Heck, it was just another day, no biggy.... no weird thing happened to me on that day. I think it's because I kinda see myself as a perpetual 32 year old. Don't know why I chose that number.... but I like 32, it just sounds about right. Say it to yourself.... 32..... sounds like a sweet age, feels good coming out from your lips. You don't even need to use your teeth to say that number. It's a soft number. I have felt 32 for the past 13 years.

Ok, now say 45. Totally different experience, right? You need your teeth to utter that age. It's a much harder number. I don't like saying it. I said it in the mirror the other day, and my mouth area just looked ugly.

For the first time in my life I have been thinking a lot about this upcoming birthday. Why is this experience of turning one year older bothering me? It's a new phenomena for me and I'm confused. I don't feel I look 45 (whatever that should look like). I don't feel physically 45 (whatever that is supposed to feel like). I don't feel like I've captured the wisdom of living half my life (whatever that means).

Hhmmm, I'm perplexed by this. It's not bothering me in like a mid-life crisis kind of way. That happened about a decade ago. Although I will say I am guilty of looking in the mirror and doing that thing girls do.... you know, putting your fingers to the sides of your face and pulling your skin back to smooth it all out. Is my discomfort about looks? Doubtful, since I'm vain enough to admit I've always been concerned about that. Botox is my friend. Nothing new there.

I do feel that I am at a crossroads in my life right now. In fact, it's not a choice of only 2 roads to choose from, there are infinite roads to choose. Noah is on the brink of heading out into his life and leaving the nest. Is my discomfort stemming from the choices that I have in my life now? Perhaps.

I'm gonna keep thinking about this because I don't have the answer to why this year's weird for me. Tuesday I turn the number I don't like saying. And July I take a month off of work to travel alone and reflect. Perhaps when I return in August I'll have figured it all out and be 32 once again.

Make it a great day!

Love,

Mich

An ingredient of My Discontent

I was recently called an ingredient of someone's discontent. Yuk....Didn't really like the way that sounded until I took a little time to pick apart what that really means. As fortunate as many of us are, there are still moments, days, perhaps longer periods when we feel something's off. We can't put our finger on it, really can't name it exactly, so we often come up with what we think is the entree of our discontent. For example, "I hate my work" is an example of what we THINK is causing us our problems. Another example might be, "I don't have love in my life," or "I wish I had more money," or "I wish I could lose 20 pounds." These are easy targets of discontent, or so we think. We believe these things are the main course of our problems, the entire menu of our tribulations. But when we peel back the layers of what sometimes causes us to feel displeasure, we will find the deeper ingredients of the issues. It's usually not related to work, lack of love or money, or the countless other things we use to announce to the world are the reasons for our restlessness or disgruntlement.

All periods of non-peace are made up of much smaller units, the many ingredients tossed in, mixed around, condensed, marinated, perhaps blended, and then served on a silver platter of "meh."

When we become busy, overworked, tired, negligent and complacent, we forget what ingredients we put into our dish of life. We just back hand, hurl in constant stuff, and we forget that one day we will have to eat the result. If we don't take care to vigilantly pick the components that we choose to put into our pot of existence, we end up with a dish that is inedible.

I'm not one for following a recipe at all, I'm just pondering the conscious decisions of what I choose to include on my plate of life.

This Spring, I am dissecting my entrees, reevaluating my ingredients, and hopefully, if I'm lucky and put the work into it, I will recreate an even more beautiful menu, and enjoy an even grander supper!

Make it a great day!

Mich

Italia!

It's 4:40 am on Saturday. I just dropped my son off as he travels to Rome, Florence and Venice. All places I have never seen with my eyes, only in my heart. In fact, I've never gone to any of the places he has visited..... Costa Rica, Spain, Italy, Nicaragua, Alaska, Bali, Tahiti, and the list goes on....

Perhaps I've worked so hard in an effort to give him the opportunity to see all the things I have never seen, although he would argue that point, I'm sure. He's a special young man..... a present from a loving God. In fact, if God made him, God's in love with me.

For Noah this morning.....

You find your way
To write your song
And come what may
I hope you find friends with whom you belong
I said I hope you find friends with whom you belong

'Cuz you'll never know the reason
Why the seas rise and fall
You'll never know the reason
Or if there's a reason at all

Make sure you stay
When you find love in your heart
And as it lights up your way
Don't let your friends fall apart
I said I hope you find friends with whom you belong
I said I hope you find friends with whom you belong

'Cuz you'll never know the reason
Why the seas rise and fall
You'll never know the reason
Or if there's a reason at all
'Cuz you'll never know the reason
Why the sun shines at all
You'll never know the reason
Why we each must one day fall

You find your way
To write your song
And come what may
I hope you find friends with whom you belong
I said I hope you find friends with whom you belong

There Are No Rules Here

I have a plaque on my desk at home that reads, "There are no rules here, we are trying to accomplish something." It's a quote by Thomas Edison.

I also have an engraved stone at the entrance to my house that reads, "Nothing is etched in stone."

There seems to be a theme here. I've learned through observing others and my own, personal experiences, that the less rules and regulations you tie yourself to, coupled with the internal understanding and acceptance that everything can and always changes, makes for a more satisfying, exciting and happy life. When we commit ourselves to arbitrary, self-made (or others-made) and often strict, heavy (and sometimes stupid) rules about how our lives are supposed to be, and at the same time believe that we cannot change, morph, transform these rules when needed, or simply because we want to, we deny ourselves the experience of living fully.

Sometimes we need to break promises (which really is just another name for a rule we set in a moment in time) to be true to ourselves. Emotions change, people grow, situations and experiences present themselves to us everyday, and we must be open to constantly rethinking about what works NOW, at this moment, based on who we are in the present. We should not live everyday with the idea that, "Ten years ago, I promised to feel a certain way about something forever, so I must continue to attempt to feel that way now." Hey, I might not like mint, chocolate chip ice cream anymore. Hence, my divorce 12 years ago.

I've always been a horrible rule follower. Even in my early years growing up, I had a hard time sticking to a set criteria of what was expected of me. I still do. Expectation is just another way of saying a set of rules you SHOULD live by. Expectations change often, and they should, based on what life is presenting to you in the here and now.

Don't get me wrong. I do believe in committing to processes. I'm not an impulsive decision maker, by any means. But I do believe that having strict rules and regulations about my life, limits and restricts my experience of life and all it contains. I want to taste all the flavors of this one life I have. I want to revel in life's changes and grow and morph according to what may present itself, both professionally and personally.

And I will never again commit to loving mint, chocolate chip ice cream forever. Wait, maybe I will, since everything, including emotions and tastes, are always changing. Hhhmmmm.....

There are no rules here and nothing is etched in stone......

Something to think about on this early, lazy Sunday morning......

Make it a great day!

My love,

Mich

The Universe and My Ovaries

Like it or not, I am one of those people who believes that the universe sends us constant messages on living a well balanced life. Often, well the majority of the time, I am a horrible listener. The universe usually starts with subtle messages, little nudges (a flu, perhaps, when you have a deadline to meet, or are expected somewhere important). The message there is to take a little time for you, rest, recharge, stuff will be here when you return, don't worry. For me, that message is soooo ten years ago. Often these nudges to slow down go unnoticed, or ignored, especially when one is as busy as I've been the past few years. But the universe is not one to be ignored, so she ups the ante in the message department every now and then.

In my case, she's gotten so ridiculously frustrated at me, that now the universe has no choice but to throw large message boulders directly on my head to get my attention. Case in point, a few months ago, while sitting in an Outreach meeting with 7 of my Outreach ladies, I began having pains in the chest. Every time I took a breath in, the pain in my chest was just completely unbearable. I turned white, felt dizzy and started sweating. Me (in my head): "OK, maybe if I just sit here for a minute, the sensation will disappear.... I have another important meeting to attend tonight, I have no time for this." The girls (aloud): "Um, Michelle, we really think you need to go to the hospital to get checked out. We're finding the nearest one now."

Those of you that know me, know that I claim to hate doctors, hate hospitals, and avoid them at all costs. One of my very best friends recently told me, 'Michelle, you love doctors, you hate the potential of bad news." I have to admit that he is right. So, I went to the hospital that day. Without boring you with the details, I was eventually admitted for the night, poked and prodded and tested and scanned and imaged and poked again. When it was determined the next morning that I wasn't dying of a heart attack, I announced that I was leaving the hospital. The potential bad news that I was scared to hear did not materialize, so I felt no reason to continue lying there.... I had WORK TO DO that day! The nurse told me I had to wait until the doctor signed my discharge papers before I was allowed to leave. I looked at him, while pulling off the EKG sticky thingys, and said, "Watch me." And I left. Message ignored. Universe now very, very pissed off.

A few weeks ago, I was diagnosed with a kidney infection. Let's just say, they suck big time. The doctor gave me meds, told me to drink a ton of water and to rest in bed for a few days. Me (aloud): REST IN BED???? I'm flying out to San Francisco tomorrow, I have WORK TO DO! So, I started negotiating with him. What if I start the meds today, and in 24 hours if I start feeling better I can go to San Fran? If I start feeling worse while in San Fran, I can always go to a doctor there, it's not like I'm flying to a third world country, right doc? Needless to say, I won the negotiation and flew off to San Francisco the next day. Again, without boring you with the details, it is now 3 weeks later, kidney infection still here and on my second round of antibiotics. Message ignored. Universe is beyond pissed and is about to pull out the big guns.

About the same time the kidney fiasco first occurred, I was also experiencing sharp pains in my lower left abdomen. I didn't tell the doc, because as my fave friend said, "I love doctors, but hate potential bad news." I figured it was just female "stuff"... no biggy... why worry the good doc for no reason. A few days ago, I absolutely had to visit the good doc again, because the pain was getting worse and worse. "You need an ultrasound, and I'll schedule one for you tomorrow" he said. Me (aloud): TOMORROW? I can't go tomorrow, I have a big, big meeting to attend in Huntington Beach! Can't this wait, I have WORK TO DO! I didn't win the negotiation this time and so I went to the ultrasound yesterday and missed the big meeting.

I received the results of the ultrasound last night (by the way, if you ever have an ultrasound and receive a call from your doctor on the same day, it's not a good sign). I don't want to worry you guys, I'm going to be just fine.... it's nothing that a little medical work can't fix. But this time, the message was heard. As I was lying on the couch last night, surrounded by bottles of antibiotics, anti-inflammatories, and jugs of water to consume, I looked up at the ceiling and said, "I hear you, message taken, I'm crying uncle, surrendering, slowing down, taking care, you win."

Universe happy.

Look, I don't think I need to tell you the moral of this story. It's pretty evident. I might be good at some things, and had, and continue to have, some great successes and accomplishments in my life, but I often fail when it comes to listening to messages from the universe regarding my rate of activity. I am flawed that way. I think I'm indestructible at times, stronger than I really am, and push myself to ridiculous limits. There's probably some psychological reason I am like this, or some wiring that my parents gave me or something. Don't really know. What I DO know is that it took the universe talking to me through my heart, my kidneys and my ovaries to get me to listen to her (and those are some serious, needed organs).

The work I love will always be there, but if I'm not careful and I continue to ignore the universe, I might not be there to do the work I love. And that, my friends, would just suck. So, I'm slowing it down a tad, taking a little more time for me, my family, my friends, my life, my health. Wish me luck, I hope I can pull this slowing down thing off!

Listen to the universe, and make it a great day!