I Am Getting Good at This

Practice makes perfect

The year is almost over and now is a good time to take stock in what I have accomplished thus far. I did not make the 1k followers on the Gram. I also did not become the Gwen Stefani of fashion, beauty and wellness, yet. I did something better.

I made peace with the here and now. I have mostly released the fear about tomorrow and the next 25 years. There are a few minutes a couple of times a week that I think about my retirement: How will I maintain the lavish lifestyle I have grown accustomed to? (Oh wait, I do not live a lavish lifestyle.) This new way of living in the fullness of the moment has energized me. I am doing much more with the new energy and confidence, but I am also taking it easy.

A few weeks ago my recruiter of almost a year decided to go back to school to complete her finance degree. I am thrilled for her, but it does mean that she will no longer be my contact at the agency. Let's call her Alberta for the moment. Alberta and I were working together to find my "forever job", while I build my forever business. When she initially shared the news I asked if I could call her back. I took a few hours to process my emotions. We had a great professional  relationship, and budding friendship was on the horizon. She helped my find several assignments that were fun, and flexible. The two of us could talk for hours about life, and the nature of work. I worked hard to cultivate that relationship, and now it was gone.

In the hours before I returned her call I asked myself what lesson was in this challenge for me: Get up and keep pushing. I called her back to get the details and started scheduling meetings with her replacement. During my evening meditations I have focused on my awareness of the present moment, my intuition and what my body is communicating to me. I have sought to be bolder with my thoughts and actions. Through this meditation I have made space for the most exciting and fulfilling experiences and relationships I have had in the last six years.

Bringing Hunter into this world has been the most incredible gift of my entire life. Motherhood, although deeply rewarding, can be terribly taxing. I wanted very much to be a perfect mother to fulfill his every want and desire. My inevitable failings discouraged me. I quickly trapped myself in a place where my needs were at the bottom of the totem pole.

I made small changes at first because that is how the big changes happen. I did a little everyday. My intentional daily actions made a difference, and the results have been brought me tremendous joy. I have made new friends and deepened existing relationships. Life has been particularly sweet lately. I made a few strategic decisions to shift my thinking at the start of the year. I am in love with where those changes have brought me. Of course there have been challenges, but I have learned to weather them better. I knew 2018 would be awesome, but it is turning into spectacular.

Once upon a time I practiced a lot of over thinking. More recently I decide what to do based on the following three questions:
Does it feel good in my body when I think about this choice?
Is it authentic?
Does it support my journey?

When I can get yes to those three questions I know it is the right decision.

A few weeks ago I saw Hunter's karate school was offering adult Krav Maga knife combat instructor classes. I was interested but, there were a few factors I had to consider. I decided to treat the uncertainty about the class and how to make it work with Hunter's schedule as noise. I asked myself the aforementioned questions. With my answers sorted I signed up. The class was intense. Electrified knives were involved. I tussled with my partner for a few hours. Taking turns wrestling each other to the mat and dodging that electrified knife. To complete the course I had to teach a specific technique to the class. I left there well fed in body, mind and spirit.

This Thing with Anthony Is on Again

Hunter drew ears on Anthony's head

The years between 2000 and 2004 were fueled by a mostly healthy obsession with the lead singer of the Red Hot Chili Peppers (RHCP), Anthony Kiedis. The period culminated with meeting him at his book signing at the Barnes & Nobles at Astor Place in New York. Afterwards I placed the book in a place of honor and felt sated. And just like that it was over. No more cyber stalking. No more memorizing all the lyrics and parsing their hidden meanings. I had a great story to tell about me and the artist who inspired me to live my life with more vitality, less fear and a heap more intention. I set my mind on meeting him and made it happen. I had renewed faith I could accomplish anything I set my mind to and that was worth the price of every concert and plane ticket I paid to get close to him. It changed me in ways that here I am fourteen years still thinking about him.

At this moment in my life I do not have four years to spend on a celebrity obsession crush. The only way to stay off another Anthony binge was to expel it all in a speech at Toastmasters. I have been stuck with my Toastmaster progress. I have three projects left and have been stalled all summer. Then two weeks ago someone mentioned meeting a celebrity and all the frenetic Anthony drama came rushing back to me in a waterfall of emotion. I found the book he signed easily. It was in storage while I was in Italy, but came to me easily when I searched for it.

My eighth speech: When Your Celebrity Crush Is More Than a Crush

Revisiting that time in my life was exhilarating. It was more than a crush because my interest in Anthony exposed me to so much more than just his music. I became interested in what inspired him. That included the poetry he read: Charles Bukowski. The movies he enjoyed: Amorros Perros.  He took me on adventures that I would have otherwise missed. I traveled to Ireland to see him in concert, and had the time of my life. 

I listened to some of the songs from that time to get me in the mood in the days leading up to my speech. Before I began my speech, I dimmed the lights and let the opening sequence of my favorite video play for the audience. Had to make sure everyone knew who I was talking about. Most did, some did not. Most of the members of my club are aeronautical engineers from India. Had to be sure they knew the RHCP.

This was my chance to share such an intimate part of myself with people who did not know about us (Anthony and  me). I was a ball of nerves, but it felt delightful to share this with my colleagues. I introduced them to an amazing artist and a special person.

It just so happened the Toastmaster Area Director was visiting our meeting. She announced that I my speech was wonderfully done, and encouraged me to me to wait for it..enter the humorist speech contest next year. 

Anthony is still challenging me to move beyond my comfort zone and live life with more exuberance and vibrancy. Thank you Anthony, who knew we would last his long. 

Anthony Kiedis' Signature

Like a Virgin; Shiny and New

This was one of those summers that as a teenager I would notate as being a turning point. An awakening, the beginning of the beginning. The Summer of 2018 will go down as one of those. I did the things I did not think I could. I crossed a meaningful threshold. Most importantly I stepped back into the joy of my life.

Three years ago a battery exploded in our apartment setting the course for series of challenges I was not sure I would survive. I lost most of my worldly possessions and Italian law enforcement wanted to throw us in jail for arson. Even though we were cleared of all wrongdoing in the case, it was a devastating blow to my sense of safety in small rooms and in the world at large. I was filled with fear all the time even though I jumped out of burning building and saved my life. I worked slowly to put the pieces back together. In an effort at total transparency I will tell you that after I jumped out of that window and clawed my way to safety I heard God's voice. He told me to look around and see that he had not forsaken me. It was a euphoric experience. I clung to it, hoping I would hear him speaking to me clearly again. He has not; at least not in that dramatic sort of way I hoped for after.

In the weeks and months that passed I tried to put the whole thing behind me, but the feeling that I was not safe anywhere lingered. Coming back to the U.S. was supposed to help, but there were even more unknowns here to keep me trapped in my fear. I was jumpy, skittish and a general mess. Last year an overcooked hotdog brought the fire department to our home. Hunter and I were so lathered up that the firemen insisted on coming into the house to make sure we were as fine as I said we were.

Then I started blogging regularly. Started a Meetup group to find my people. (It is thriving by the way.) Met the founders of my favorite podcast, and told them how they inspired me. They thanked me on social media. I met a Meetup platform director she loves the community I am creating. I was elected vice president of my Toastmasters club. I registered with a temp agency. My recruiter and I developed a candid relationship. She told me frankly that I am overqualified for most of the jobs in Savannah, but she can keep me busy if I am ok with assignments that are not as challenging or well paid as my previous roles. I agreed and once I let go of money and status I began to truly HEAL.

I accepted a two month temporary position at the most well known retail corporation in the world. It was basic office work, but the hours aligned with Hunter's school and karate schedule. It was also close to home and low stress. Most days I came home with enough energy to work on my special projects and spend quality time with Hunter. My days were filled with new people living in circumstances so vastly different from my own that I told them very little about myself. My days were filled with dramas tiny and large, and all the hot gourmet drinks I could drink, which wreaked havoc on my skin. I gave up trying to find a permanent position at this place. Although it is a multi-national corporation this particular location does not have a position for someone with my particular skill set. Let's leave it there.

Once I sorted through that dilemma I strapped in for the journey. I learned a lot about Savannah and the America of 2018. Juggling a full time job, a four year old, a husband in Afghanistan, and the rest of my life built my confidence back up a little bit at a time everyday. There were small indignities to be sure. Someone asked me to cut out little carboard ID cards, but I did it gracefully because I was out in the world in this place where no one knew about my past. I was just a lady in an office who wore nice clothes. I adored the anonymity. And it allowed me to shed that ash that clung so tightly to me.

I feel a bit like a virgin: shiny and new.  

Cook for 50 men. Screw 55

Many years ago by accident I encountered the book The Color Purple. I watched the movie on HBO as a very young adolescent. It was Christmas and the adults were playing cards. I snuck off to watch HBO hoping to catch a glimpse of something sexually explicit. Instead it was the middle of the movie version of The Color Purple. I watched absentmindedly. Clearly this movie was for adults, but not in the dirty way I was hoping for if I am being perfectly honest. My dad barged in sensing I was up to something I should not be doing. To my surprise he was well acquainted with the movie. He pronounced the movie a travesty and walked out. I found his observation curious. The movie seemed ok, from what I could understand.

Many years later I stumbled upon the book. I had not interest in it because by this time I had seen the film in its entirety and was fairly certain the book had little more to offer. I was living in Rome for the second time. The receptionist at my mother's job was just a few years older than me and we had become friends. She came to visit and brought her a dogeared, underlined copy. She asked if I had read it. I shrugged it off, but she insisted I should read it. She left the book behind after her visit. My cousin's name was written inside. I am not very close to that cousin and felt awkward about reading her book. After the first few chapters I could not put it down. I felt as if a secret passageway had opened in my head. Suddenly I had deeper access to the human experience. I understood love, God and womanhood as never before.

I had just fallen in love for the first time and had my heart broken. Badly. It was a difficult time. The Color Purple and the Tragic Kingdom CD got me through it. A few more years went by and Alice Walker published a novel about how the book became a movie, and the controversy surrounding the film. In certain African American male circles it was seen as anti-male. In other circles it was viewed as anti-woman. It was the eighties. Race and gender were different then perhaps. For me it was an enrichment of  what had become more than a book to me. It had become a map for how to find my way, my happiness.

Fast forward twenty years. The concept of The Color Purple has been knocking around in my head. For no specific reason I downloaded The Color Purple audiobook read by the author: Alice Walker. Listening to the author read a novel is in itself a special gift. The author's voice will tell you the things you need to know. It will answer the questions in your heart. I didn't know I still had questions, but I did and heard the answers. I am set to begin my fourth listening. I hear something new every time.

My mother is here with me while Ryan is off keeping our country safe. I started talking to her about the experience in a dreamlike state. I even coincidentally found it on my bookshelf this morning. We spoke about how my cousin's book came into my possession. She made the notations and underlines many years ago in her first and only reading of the novel. She opened it to a passage she had underlined: "She ran a roadhouse. Cook for fifty men. Screw fifty-five." I say it out loud and laugh. I tease her. I say, "Ha! You like that part the best huh?" She said no she didn't like it at all. I laugh some more. Push her to explain why she would underline something she didn't like. Finally she said she liked the sentence, but disapproved of it as a way to live. I say it is one of my favorite lines in the book. It is an audacious line. An absurdly bold thing to say to a parent, but I am grown. I say all sorts of bold things these days. This one got her good. She stared at me as if I suddenly transformed into Twilight Sparkle.

Twilight Sparkle

My Itty Bitty Titties Are Going to Save the World?

When I was a pre-pubescent girl I whispered a not-so-secret secret to my cousin who was also my first best friend. It was late at night and we laid face-to-face in the dark during one of our many sleepovers. Jean I whispered, "I don't think I will have big boobs. Like ever." She sat up in my darkened room quickly, "Yes, you will! You're boobs will come in. Don't worry." 

If you know me then you know those boobs never came "in", to my great dismay. As I approached my fortieth birthday friends began to warn me about my impending first mammogram. When I finally had the courage to listen to them I heard that my small B-cup breasts would be smashed sandwich style in a very threatening machine. 

My first mammogram did not disappoint. There was much to fear. It was terrible. I dreaded every appointment going forward. At my most recent mammogram the technician propositioned me. She told me a fact I already knew; I have dense breasts. I have known this for years. They are petite and dense. Mammograms have a hard time seeing into the tissue. The proposition was to join a medical research study, have an non invasive Automated SoftVue 3D Whole Breast Ultrasound exam and receive $50. Twenty at the first exam and thirty next year at the second.

I was tremendously excited because I watched a lot of Grey's Anatomy before Christina left and the show became too complicated to follow. Christina and Meredith were obsessed with medical research studies and clinical trials. The technician was offering a chance to be part of research study. My itty bitty titties are going to save the world? According to the technician and the literature my breasts are precisely the kind of boobs they need in the study. She promised it would not hurt and described it as a pleasant experience. I am always up for a good time and an adventure. This was a bit of both.

Just before the giggles began.

It was a great experience from start to finish. The technicians at the Imaging Center were skilled, professional and fun. I had to change out of my street clothes because this ultrasound involves lots of warm water. I was never so excited to have a medical exam. Why would I turn down a boob massage of warm water?After I undressed I placed my breasts one at a time in a warm puddle of water while the jelly suction cup under my breast began to apply suction and pressure. It was wider than a nursing baby's mouth, but the same power. Suddenly it felt good, a little too good perhaps. I tried to hold it but, I giggled and later guffawed uncontrollably. It was contagious and soon the technicians were laughing too. It was certainly ticklish, and I will take that sensation over the smashing of the mammogram any day.

Both the mammogram and the SoftVue came back normal. My cousin Jean was wrong about my boobs and a bunch of other stuff that came after puberty. But she was my first best friend, and our relationship set the stage for lots of other women in my life. I love my little community of female friends in my life now. Most of all I never imagined my itty bitty titties could make a difference in breast health for women someday.

The Revolution Is Being Televised

A few months ago I was Hunter's escort at a play date. His friends have a trampoline in their backyard, which is standard in these parts. No playdate is complete unless I am part of the fun. I climbed onto the trampoline enthusiastically. He squealed with glee at the sight of my bouncing. After a few minutes I noticed my panties were wet. Each jump forced out a bit of urine? Yes, that is a question. I was not quite sure it was pee because well I did not feel the urge to go. I reluctantly left the fun, peed and returned. To my utter shock more liquid came out each time I landed. I had no desire to pee. I cut the playdate short to go home to change my pants. At home my pants were wetter than I have ever experienced.

I discussed the events with a few of my female friends and they all agreed that they have similar experiences, but advised I should mention to my gynecologist. Today was that doctor visit. My doctor nodded knowingly as I whispered discreetly that I had trouble holding onto to my urine while on the neighbor's trampoline. She looked me straight in the eye. All her attention focused on me. She was taking this trampoline business seriously. I was not exactly prepared for this level of intensity. Boy did she have news for me:
I have a weak pelvic floor
Been peeing wrong
Kegels should not be quick bursts of squeezing
Physical therapy is an option (digital penetration is part of the deal)
Amazon sells the Apex for $249
And lastly, surgery is also an option

My head spun. That is a long list of options for something as frivolous as trampoline jumping. But it was more the idea that a part of my body is weak that worried me. My allergies leave me wilted most days. I just do not have the energy to be as active as I am wont to do. This has been a source of concern. I love pushing myself physically either through weight training or whatever of the moment martial arts catch my interest. My allergies have slowed me down a bit and I no longer feel strong in my body. THIS. MUST. CHANGE. The change might just need to begin in my vagina.

In addition to the aforementioned Apex and other comments on the list, I remembered the actress Regina Hall speaking about her Yoni egg. I laughed at her shenanigans. I boil eggs, peel eggs and eat eggs. What I do not do with eggs is hold them in my vagina for safekeeping. This will require a great deal more research, but I have to tell you I am intrigued at the promises of not just a stronger pelvic floor, but a super charged love life. Who among us ain't down for some supercharged lovemaking?

The Handmaid's Tale vs. The Bold Type

Two of my of the moment favorite shows: "The Handmaid's Tale" and "The Bold Type" (TBT). Both shows tightly focus on the female experience in our current time-ish.  If you have not heard by now that Margaret Atwood's 1980s novel The Handmaid's Tale has become a hit tv series on Hulu you have disengaged from pop culture in a very real way. And that is perfectly ok. The thing is this might be the appropriate time to reengage. Let me give you a hand.

In "The Handmaid's Tale" Peggy from Mad Men is now June/Offered in a dystopian, totalitarian America where the birth rate was so low and Americans so fearful that they allowed a religious cult to take over the government and institute ritualized sexual slavery to save us all from ourselves. That is the gist of this dark, often mysterious show. What's that now? Why would you want to watch that? Because it inexplicably timely. The characters accept each new assault on their freedom with some consternation, but never the anger and outrage one would expect. At least not until it is too late.

I watched the first season last summer binging episodes late at night and reading blogs that unpacked each of the dense storylines. I eagerly awaited season two as it moved into unchartered territory. The first season ended with the book. After the first few episodes of the second season I stopped watching. It was torture porn. Every week June/Offred was assaulted or demeaned in some unspeakable way. The other characters did not fare any better. I asked the ladies on the forum I follow closely to let me know if the second season turns the corner to something more positive.

That turn happened recently. The women gained some power and exercised it to make things better.

Then suddenly there was talk of June/Offred's unborn baby being taken from her and the forgotten horror of child separation as a practice in the fictional country came rushing back. But not just on the how. This was also happening here in this country, in this time. It was incredibly hard to watch the news and the show. Watching life imitate art should never be this painful. I think another hiatus is needed from the "Handmaid's Tale". It has become too hard especially in light of the separations at the border.

After feeling drained and oppressed I switched to TBT. It's a "Sex And the City" (SATC) millennial version with a lesbian, bi-racial character. This fixes many of the diversity issues we saw on our beloved SATC. In stark contrast to "The Handmaid's Tale" I feel uplifted after watching TBT. I love seeing these young women critically engaged in their careers and friendships with one another. There are no oppressive patriarchic systems crushing them out of existence. There are male characters in supporting roles, but the drama is not typically about them. There is even a female Editor-in-Chief who could easily be the villain, but she is not. She is finally the good boss that seeks to mentor these three young women as they navigate the cutthroat fashion magazine world in New York.

Of course these shows are not met to be competitors in any way. What they are though are places where modern women can see themselves. Where we can indulge in the fantasy of other realities for ourselves. This is harder to do in "The Handmaid's Tale" of course. I cannot help but see myself in the characters even, or perhaps especially, when they are in their darkest hour.