It’s not a Career, it’s a Body of Work

I'm TinaO

For the last four years I’ve stumbled when people have asked me what I do.

It’s because I’m an entrepreneur.

It’s because I’m an artist.

It’s because I’m a network marketer.

It’s because I’m a full time mom.

It’s because I’m a body of work, not a career.

TinaO Your Living Story

 

xxT

 

 


TinaO is a writer, speaker and the founder of TinaOLife – a hub for all things worth living for, the workshop Live Your Best Story, and her coaching practice:  Tall Poppy Living. She’s also a professional network marketer with a decade in the industry.  She teaches: selling isn’t slimey and marketing isn’t make-believe.  You can be yourself and be successful in Direct Sales.  

Drop in Anytime…

The Drop in Anytime Friend

Do you have a drop in anytime friend? Perhaps you are one.  Awhile back we moved into a townhouse complex in the suburbs on a cold New Year’s Day.  Our eldest was two, and our newest was eight months old.  It was SLICK that day. I’m in Canada and so, we expect ice.

As a new mama with two chickadees I stayed in the house and pushed boxes around while my husband and friends moved everything in. It was dark by the time we were done.  There’s a greenish glow to inside lights when you’ve no curtains for the beams to bounce off of, add that to a familiar echo of new rooms, fresh paint and nothing touching the walls, and everything feels eerily right.

Somehow I remember a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken sitting in this green glow on a half unpacked box.  Okay so this was over a decade ago and it’s possible that I’m just nostalgically making this up – but – somehow it rings true. I haven’t eaten KFC with full on gusto since I was a kid. It must’ve been pay day when my parents would bring it home because a bucket of chicken was a lot for our family. Oh my, how I loved those biscuits.  I’d slather them up with margarine (yup, that’s how long ago it was.  Who eats margarine these days?), then dip them by hand into the gravy. Oh that was nine year old decadence right there.

So there we were, standing amidst the boxes, the KFC, talking through the echo, chowing on drumsticks and cold french fries when a shadow came across the green glow and I turned to the kitchen window.

Our townhouse kitchen was just below ground with the window at eye level to a patch of grass which we later used to track the feet of our kids.  For now though, this was still foreign land, so when a pair of snowsuit baby feet appeared as if they were suspended in mid-air at the window, I had to check it out. It was dark out remember?  It’s hard to see into the night when you’re in a lit room. It’s a good thing the baby was wearing a light coloured snow suit or I would’ve missed him entirely.  As quickly as I looked up, they vanished.

…followed by a knock on the door.

…followed by the creak of the door opening.

…followed by a boisterous HELLO NEIGHBOUR!

This is how I met my new friend Sue.  She had her son, an 18 month old Kai strapped to her front in a snuggly type thing.  He was a little baby so his feet still kicked and dangled when she moved.

Sue became my Drop In Anytime Friend, because that’s just who she is and that’s who I am.  Meeting her reminded me of how much I love that quality in people and how as much as my husband is a private kinda dude, I want to hold on to that part of me.

Drop in anytime friends are:

  • not appropriate, they’re real.
  • they leave your favourite food in your fridge because they saw it on sale and thought of you.
  • they don’t knock, they sing hello through open doors instead.
  • they always have a hot pot of tea ready for you (or they’ll make one).
  • sometimes they turn up in your living room before you’re even there. Sometimes they’re already crying and they need you to just sit with them.
  • they climb through your kitchen window when the door is locked. “You can’t make me wait to meet your new baby Tina.  I came in quietly…”
  • they show up at the best time during the holidays so you can both escape the madness for twenty minutes.
  • they trade magazines.
  • they eat your cookies.
  • they feed your kids.
  • they buy the slurpees when you won’t.
  • they kibitz with you about the neighbours who think your collective gaggle of children are too loud.
  • and they shout back “Play! It’s 10am! Anyone sleeping at this hour needs to get a life!”
  • they argue with you over the phone and then show up in their sneakers at your door.
  • their door is always open for you – too, just as yours is open for them.

 

They are your Drop in Anytime Friend.

Drop In Anytime Sue
Sue, after climbing through my kitchen window, two days after Cedar was born.

 

I hope you have one, and if you don’t, then I suggest trying on becoming that kind of friend for someone else.  It’s usually mutual anyway. A drop in anytime friend reminds you that you belong to someone’s life – that you matter – that you needn’t be anything other than exactly what and who you are in this moment. You are always welcome, and there is always a seat at the table for you. At least, that’s how it feels for me. There’s a quiet, peaceful place for friends of this kind – it’s called HOME.

When we moved out of that complex and away to our ‘dream’ lifestyle on an island by the water, what I missed most was that friend.  I missed Sue’s voice coming through the door, her eyeballs looking at me over a cuppa coffee through the kitchen window, the sound of our kid’s feet kicking off their shoes in her narrow hallway, and that feeling of being known, loved and held in the bubble of I’m always here for you.   I wouldn’t even say we were best friends, we were a richer kind: one without expectation, or comparison or place.  We didn’t have everything in common. We weren’t in the same career.  We didn’t share the same opinions – but we had one value in common, and we still do.

Community.

Having a Drop in Anytime Friend is the Living Story of COMMUNITY. 

Our families still gather in the summer to camp - well, as much as we still can.
Our families still gather in the summer to camp – well, as much as we still can.

 

I find as life gets easier, as the kids get older, as the marriages and divorces and hook ups calm down, the finances build, fall, adjust, and build again, and the dramas become the art of our history, somehow transforming into wisdom, my drop in anytime friends are the ones who never age, never leave and will never die.

TinaO Your Living Story

 

xxT

 

 


TinaO is a writer, speaker and the founder of TinaOLife – a hub for all things worth living for, the workshop Live Your Best Story, and her coaching practice:  Tall Poppy Living. She’s also a professional network marketer with a decade in the industry.  She teaches: selling isn’t slimey and marketing isn’t make-believe.  You can be yourself and be successful in Direct Sales.  

The Daily Shutdown

The Daily Shut Down

Sometimes the things we kick and scream to avoid are the very things we should’ve done a long time ago.

Let’s talk about solopreneurs shall we?  I’m a mompreneur, a writer, a network marketer, the founder of this very site and the Live Your Best Story Retreat.  I’m a busy gal.  I’ve designed my life that way.  I have kids, a house to tend to, a dog to walk, a body to take care of (ummm my body), a business to run and all the admin that goes with simply being a living breathing person in today’s societal ‘agreements’ box.  I likely have the same long list of responsibilities that you do. I’m not busier than you, and I am also not complaining nor making my case to be worthy of you liking me more or making a plea with the hopes that you’ll repost this for all the other mompreneurs out there. This isn’t strategic blogging for reblogging purposes.  This is a personal aha of mine that I still want to pretend isn’t true.

I’m done at 3pm.  Like done. Over and out done. I start making withdraws from my bank of ‘fake it till you make it’ after 2:59pm. I’ve turned the dial from left brain to right brain to no brain left at all. You’ll know I’m there when this writer’s sentences are strangely missing vowels.

Can you grab me the…. ummm… you know that thing… the finger and thumb moving thing that cuts that stuff… (I mime the action so they get it).  The kids stare at me:  ” you mean the scissors mom?” – Yes of course I mean the scissors.  What are you looking at?  Go get them for me!

Why?  Well, okay, so sometimes I’m up at 4:30am as a hockey mom (twice/week this season) but mostly I’m daily shaking my tail at 5:30am: wake-up, lunch up, drive, kiss and drop the Mister off.

“Have a good day and drive safe”.

Then on to the next crew to move on up and out: wake-up, toast-up, dress-up, pack-up, (sometimes scrap-up), then kiss-up and send off.

Have an awesome day you guys.  See you at three.

The morning moves me on to the daily dos: you know, the list that when you don’t do it, becomes twice the list the following day and not only that, if you skip it you’ll just agonize your procrastinating hours away about the very thing you’re procrastinating.

Wicked wicked cycle – one that I personally try to avoid.  

Start the laundry, straighten the shoes, figure out dinner, wipe up the morning mess, check the calendar, phone, facebook, make the food and supplies list for the daily afternoon dash to the store, check for forms, wipe down the damn boy toilet… again  (grrrrrr…. one day right?  one day they’ll do it?), figure out where the dog walk or personal run fits, shower and then…

Get down to business: turn the laptop on, crack open the to do list, the follow-throughs, and the must accomplish. My business thought processing doesn’t even start until 10am and that’s 4 1/2 to 5 1/2 hours post my feet first hitting the morning floor.  It’s a half day of ‘work’ already before I’ve even begun.

It took me awhile to connect the dots about the 3pm shut down thing.  Of course I had to get nailed with cancer before I could be honest about it.

I still tell myself that shutting down at 3pm is too early.  

That I’m not working hard enough.

That I could do more.

That I need to do more.

That my business requires me to do more.

That “if it’s meant to be, it’s up to me”

That “success occurs when my dreams are bigger than my excuses”

That “if it’s important, I’ll find a way”

Yeah well, tell that to the me who dipped one too many times into her bank of reserves and came out on the other side overdrawn.

I had to get nailed with cancer before I could be honest about it.

Last year I received a cancer diagnosis and everything changed.  I was in this group therapy session thingy for people in treatment and I heard this woman beside me who was a therapist herself with three decades of serving others behind her, an uuber woman, mom, professional, wife and more say:  “Yeah, I practice being lazy now.  It’s not easy for me, but I do it.”

It’s too bad we have to call self-care lazy.

There’s just something wrong with that.

“Yeah, I practice being lazy now.  It’s not easy for me, but I do it.”

My shut off time is 3pm. That’s when I decide to just be me: Tina, mom, wife, friend, me.  It feels kind of like floating, like I’m drifting around on the current of life.  I’m laying on my back, face up to the sun, belly exposed, sun glasses on, just laying there, trusting that this massive ocean is totally strong enough to hold me, and guess what?  Willingly, it does.

3pm is a good time to shut down for the day. Done done and done.   FLOAT time.  How about you?

TinaO Your Living Story

 

xxT

 

 


TinaO is a writer, speaker, network marketer and the founder of Live Your Best Story.  Want to know more or work with her?  Click here.  

Walking the Long Road of Red Tape

I have a problem. I'm entitled

musac playing…

I have a problem with red tape.

I think I’m above it.

I’m on the phone.  Waiting.  wa wa wa w a i t i n g.  A small wave of impatience is building.  Tone Loc’s Funky Cold Medina is playing in my ear. What the hell is that doing being played on the ‘hold’ button of the hospital’s billing department.  Is that song even old enough to be musac?  Maybe it is. 

“So, I gave some to my dog when he began to beg
Then he licked his bowl and he looked at me
And did the wild thing on my leg

I’m a little entitled.  White chick, artist, living by the water, mom to three boys, hockey boys at that – the gear stinks, like S T I N K S, wife to a tall drink of water – surely being and STAYING MARRIED is like enough right?  I make cookies, but only the ones my kids will eat.  Nobody eats peanut butter cookies so guess what?  Now I don’t either. I mop the floor, make the beds, write, try to be innovative, raw, authentic blah blah blah… just frickin care, sometimes just FRICKIN CARING feels like that’s gotta be enough too you know?  I wash my face, stave off aging, use my eye cream, read ingredients, cut down on sugar, fucking survive, thrive find a voice through the insanity of cancer, BARF, rinse repeat.  I sign up to do a triathlon, make friends with old friends and gal pals I said dumb things to, read up on leadership – so many bloody books on leadership, when do I ever get to say with a CLEAR HEART that I AM A LEADER?  I stay current on the news – be mindful of my crush on Peter Mansbridge, collect the dust bunnies, get gas, sign permission slips, REMEMBER to sign permission slips, feel GUILTY because I fucking forgot the god damn stupid pink, no green, no blue, no BAHHHHHH what the hell colour was the permission slip this time?  Oh right… it didn’t have a colour, it was online… oh… I didn’t check my email.  I check my email, grocery shop with just the right list so I don’t spend too much, plan organic, buy bulk to save, think… think… think… let go of anxiety, get my ass to yoga, well, I say I’m going to do that, okay, so I say I’m going to get my ass to yoga, go to choir but not when I have a cold (like last night), feed my business, work my business, nurture by business… drink kombucha….

surely I don’t have to deal with the stupidity of RED TAPE too?  Surely I don’t have to SIT ON HOLD to deal with this STUPID BILLING THING!

S U R E L Y ? ? ? ?

I’m entitled.  I have a problem.

I’m on the phone with MSP (Medical Services Plan) to find out why my son who was born in 2009 did not have coverage in 2014 for a procedure done at the hospital just a year or so back, yet he received his shots in 2010 (no charge), went to emerg. for something dumb in 2011 (again, no charge), saw the doctor in 2014 (no charge), but only two months later he HAD NO COVERAGE?  And now I have a $2200 bill that is going to collections?  Are you kidding me?  WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED????

Hello Mary speaking…

Hi Mary so this is what happened…

yahta yahta detail detail story story boring boring what are you going to do about it? – Don’t say that you’ll start a war and you’ll never get what you want – be prepared she is going to stonewall you – just say with it smile – and be nice – she can’t see you but if you smile then your voice sounds friendly.

What do I do Mary?

Hold on she says.  

K.

There you are it’s all done.  

What?

I just backdated him to his date of birth.  It’ll take 24 hours but…

That was it. Done. All I had to do was call. No redtape.  No waiting.  No fighting.  No nothing.  I just had to call.

I’m entitled.

I have a problem.  Clearly.

TinaO, chill man, we’re all on this planet together.  We get free stuff.  We pay for stuff. We get crap mixed up this side of Wednesday. We fix it.  You ain’t special, you’re human.

Oh yeah.  I forgot.

Ya know what I’m sayin’

That Medina’s a monster, y’all

TinaOLife

 

 

xxT