TinaOLife Archives - Page 8 of 9

I’m Walking… Still Walking…

January 15, 2016

Goals stink so says I. Why? Because you can’t just order them off a menu like they don’t belong to you. In order for them to work, they have to mean something. While placing your mouth watering want with the waiter in front of you might feel like a big deal – the reality is once the food is gone so is the meal.

A goal has to has to be rooted in a yearning in order for you to keep going. Lets face it, none of us would tread through snow up to our knees with our cheeks, ears and nose screaming cold from the wind, unable to see more than three feet in front of us if we didn’t believe that the promised warm cabin just 100 metres away wasn’t really there. We just wouldn’t do it – well, we wouldn’t do it by choice.

Goals are choices.

Goals are destinations.

Goals are stakes in the earth, in our mind, and on our calendars.

Goals are decisions.

This morning I set a bunch of mine in motion because I put them to the page. I’ve been self-employed for almost three decades and goals make me nauseous and angry now, yet try as I might I can’t seem to ditch the word. When I pick up my pen and my auto-pilot goal-setter kicks in, she writes: My Goal for TinaOLife…. My Goal for LYBS…. My Goal for my Network Marketing Business… My Goal for Me…

Man oh man… I just can’t ditch the word goal even though I don’t believe in them.

I believe in story.

I believe in walking.

I believe in direction fueled by a yearning.

and then I walk. as I listen. as I follow and lead, and move in the direction of the story of which I’ve chosen to be the main character.

I just keep walking.

Where do you walk? Why? Do you care? Are you willing to?

xxT

I Love You – She said Quietly

January 14, 2016

So I’m reading Olympic Medalist Clara Hughes’ book Open Heart Open Mind this morning at 4:30am and something interesting happened. I’m up that early because I’m a hockey mom and I gotta get the boys sorted as they hit the rink before school: put something in their tummy for breakfast, pack a lunch for school, and throw in all the stuff into their pack that they’ll likely forget about. This is the to do list of a forever in training mom for sure. Our youngest is still in bed – he’s not a hockey kid yet. I’m crossing my fingers that he falls head over heels in love with the arts so we can skip the third round of early morning family insanity. We shall see. Passion is as passion does.

The boys and their dad are off by 5:30am and by then I’m too awake to sleep but not quite ready to take on the day, probably because it’s Thursday and I’ve already put in three mom mornings this week so I crawl back into bed and crack open Clara’s book. My husband bought Open Heart, Open Mind for me for my birthday, probably because her story is coloured with dark corners, her triumphs have sharp edges and her drive is fueled by fire, unstoppable, wild, raw, and almost retchingly honest fire. Okay so honesty can’t retch, but maybe that’s why writers have been known to say things like: I just gotta barf it out first, get it on the page, get into the guts of it…

Thank you Clara. You clearly got into the guts of it and that’s why it’s carrying me away.

I’m only half way through the book but if I had to sum up your message so far I’d say it’s all about ‘self-love’ instead of ‘self-loathing’ right? Hmmm… such a universal quest to heal the scars of so many. It’s almost as if getting to that place requires understanding your own Escape Room: an insane past time where people are willing to be pushed, screamed at, and even terrified as they scramble to escape simulated life-threatening situations. The crazy part about escape rooms is that we get locked into them knowing there is always a way out. What makes it so intoxicatingly addictive is the adrenaline pumping through our veins as we question whether or not we’ll actually find it. The self-loathing to self-love conundrum is just like that. The only way to rewire our brains out of self-loathing is to step into our darkest blindspot: self-love.

That’s the thing about blind-spots, they’re bloody obvious once we see them and then they vanish as if they were never there at all.

So there I was at 6am, about a half an hour in to Clara’s book , when, as I’m all curled up and warm, out of my mouth tumbles: I love you Tina.

I love you Tina.

I’m like: What?

I love you Tina.

Oh. I thought that came from you.

Okay so I’m no stranger to the self-help world. I’ve read Louise Hay’s You Can Heal Your Life. I’ve affirmed my way into a happier disposition, I know how to talk to myself when I need to pull my sorry behind out of a crap load of poor me, or a give my brain an etch a sketch shake and redraw a nasty perspective into a positive one. Oh yes, I get the whole self-talk thing but that’s not what happened. I wasn’t standing in front of the mirror talking into my own eyes, or reading a magic yellow affirmation sticky, or even writing in my gratitude journal (I don’t have a gratitude journal shhhh..). Nope, I was in the fetal position, feet tucked under the covers, ankles crossed with one fist under my right cheek and the other cupping the edges of the book. I was in lala land and then out of nowhere, my inner me, the one who feels the same now at 45yrs as it did at 7yrs blurted out I Love You Tina just so I could hear it. It tumbled easily out of my mouth, and out loud.

My next thought was: ‘uhhhh… how did that happen? Ohhhh… and I do this to my kids all the time. I tell them I love them just ’cause. It’s not a daily do, or an affirmation, or a mindset reset at all, it’s just because it’s true. I love them.’

So Clara – that may not have been the goal for your readers by page 112, but that’s what happened to me.

I love you Tina, I said to myself without any agenda at all. I love you – probably because it’s true. I do.

How about you?

p.s. I’m at the top of chapter 14 – Salt Lake City Olympics are next. Mmmm… can’t wait.

xxT

What I Love About You Is

January 14, 2016

I turned 45 this year. My birthday is on Christmas day so my family does a really bang-up job of making it special. People often think that my birthday is overlooked because of it being Christmas and all but you know, that’s just not the case though it’s a reliable ice-breaker conversation that I’m dumped into regularly. The truth is, I feel for people who are born on the 27th or 29th because those are mucky days where everyone is still eating leftovers, dealing with gifts half in half out of plastic, mulling over what worked and what didn’t, starting to think about the credit card bills that are coming… and of course, the mindfulness that once again another year is ending. People are busy man! Birthdays that fall on this transition week have more guck to wade through.

The funny thing is, celebrating my birthday isn’t even that important to me, but being remembered is. I suppose that’s tied into my history and understanding that this moment, as in right now will change in less than a second and we can’t stop it. Time moves on. People leave, tragedy happens, aha’s change our perspective, cars turn left instead of right… we don’t get to run that show – so really, who cares about birthday cake and beautifully wrapped presents? The paper is going end up in the trash because most of it can’t be recycled (insane isn’t it?), and the cake is likely some store bought thing because most of us aren’t willing to learn how to pour ourselves into food anymore… so really what is special and memorable about that?

I’m not a birthday downer I promise. What does matter deeply to me – is that PEOPLE, as in RELATIONSHIPS, as in our UNIQUENESS, as in our STORY is seen, recognized, honoured and shared. That’s what birthdays are about for me. It’s loving this thing called life and our connection to it.

We have a tradition in our house that on birthdays during cake time, we go around the table, or the couches or whatever and each person has to finish this sentence for the birthday person: “What I love about you is…” and we usually do a few rounds of it. My boys are 14, 12 and 6 right now (2016), and we’ve been doing this since they were wee. It’s old hat to them. It started out feeling kinda weird and exposing, and at various times in the boy’s development they got shy and even sensitive about it, like sharing their feelings about a family member was a bit too personal, and we’ve also been through years where ‘what I love about you’ is a silly poop, fart and bum joke (what is it about 5-7yrs old?), and now we’re in this funny mix of recognizing that this ritual we do for each other really matters, I can see on the boy’s faces. They ‘get it’, but they’re so pre-occupied with themselves (welcome teen years) that what they love about each other is what the other can do for them. “What I love about you is that you make my lunches every day… what I love about you is that you take me to hockey… that you do my laundry...”, thankfully there’s still a six year old in the mix sharing poop and fart gratitudes…

My husband totally gets it. He’s never been a birthday guy either. Neither of us grew up having birthday parties with friends over, loot bags and crazy amounts of gifts. Neither of us grew up with any kind of birthday rituals either, but we come from a time where our distractions were painful ones: my mom died when I was little, his family divorced and both of us grew up fast. It’s the relationships that matter. That’s the gift of birthdays. We remember how lucky we are to have the person sitting in front of us who is about to stuff their mouth full of cake.

This year for my birthday, we were up in a cabin away from home. We did this on purpose – opted out of the bigness of the holidays (though I’m a Christmas cracker and one could say I did it big anyway), it was quieter. The pic above is what I woke up to after having a nap on the couch by the fire. While I was sleeping after a long birthday walk in the snow, Mr. Todd and the boys hung streamers and balloons for me and while we all recognize that stringing pink crepe paper is ‘wasteful’ and ‘environmentally stupid’, this was their way of saying I Love You Tina, Mom, Wife, Cheerleader, Friend.

When we did our ritual of “What I love about you is…” for me, it was simple and silly and irreverent and kinda teenager/elementary school impersonal, and guess what? That’s what made it totally perfect.

What I love about you is…

xxT

Still Waters Run Deep

January 13, 2016

This is a pic of my husband. He’s not as public as I am, thank God. Can you imagine if we were both wired to want to share everything? What a mess that would be? Oh boy… I mean really, where would this firecracker of a mouth and mind go to just rest for awhile? And where would his ‘still waters’ go to get all wavy and stuff? We’d be a walking party – the perfect silly string storm. It might be fun for a few weeks but a lifetime? Ummm no. How exhausting.

Why do I tell you this?

Because I want to add a perspective to your ‘I wonder if only I had…’ mindset, and let’s be honest, deep breath, we all do this, as in wonder sometimes.

I wonder if I married the right person?

I wonder if we have anything in common anymore?

I wonder if we’re soul-mates or if I’ll ever have one? Do I even believe in that? I don’t know…

I wonder…?

These are the best and the worst questions. These are the topics that can drive a room full of pajama party women (do men talk about this kinda stuff? As far as I know, most don’t but I suppose it’s possible) into a frenzy of self-doubt, or mild to major panic and even start up some boyfriend/husband envy. We’ve all seen it or experienced it at some point. The first time I got married (whole other story – see I can speak to this topic honestly), during my month of pre-wedding prep, my best friend at the time (this should’ve been my first and last hint to quietly close this friendship) said to me “So, who’s your ONE THAT GOT AWAY?”. Wait a minute, I was getting married – there should be no ‘one that got away’.

Yet there it was and with every question comes an answer whether we consciously do it or not.

Who was my ONE THAT GOT AWAY?

Should I have one?

Shouldn’t I have one?

Am I doing this right?

What if there is one and I don’t know?

What does that mean about my marriage? About my life? About my my my… Oh my now what?

So I answered this ‘best friend’ of mine with the names of two old boyfriends that I still had lingering flickers for. Even saying that ‘flicker thing’ out loud seems weird. Not wrong, just bizarre. They were flickers of unrealized dreams, of stolen moments, of non-replicable touches, gazes, thoughts because they were unique to us, they were pangs of rejection that still had fire in them, zingers of physical attraction, of wonder… that’s all, of just wonder.

Wonder is rapturous.

but Wonder can also be distracting.

You know how I talk about the double edge sword of every single truth? Well, this is what my sword of wonder looks like: rapture and distraction. Two sides. Both are true.

In the world that I live in and the rules that I play by, every layer of the story is welcome to be heard because no layer is more ‘honest’ than the other. Our Living Story is how they all weave together.

Did my first marriage end? Yup. Because of the flickers from the ‘ones that got away’? – Nope. Did I date one of those flickering dudes again? Yup – both of them actually. Did either of them end up being my second husband? Nope.

Why?

Because they were flickers. Fun, fabulous hot flickers but not the right fuel for my life.

Mr. Todd and I (the still water guy in the pic and yes, that’s what I call him) were blissfully married for two years before the veil of marriage lifted and we realized we ‘chose’ each other and that meant for ‘life’. Crap really? Now what do we do? Yes indeed, over the last fifteen years or so we have had our share of marital nastiness, brokenness, detachment, resignation, deep regret for choosing each other and lots and lots of ‘I wonder if…’ questions.

The truth for us didn’t come from simply answering the questions, but rather from hearing the stories that we found in our answers.

Many times I thought my marriage (yes, not our marriage in these moments) should be over. Many times I wondered if I chose the right man.

I used to say to myself “He’s a good man, but maybe not the right man for me. He’s quiet, he’s private, he’s so black and white and he doesn’t really like people all that much. We have nothing in common anymore. What are we doing here together?”.

And he would say to himself: “She’s crazy, I can’t build a life with her. She spends money like there’s always more coming. She’s a dreamer, everything is grey with her, she’s a moving target, she’s public, loud and likes people a lot, sometimes more than me. We have nothing in common. What are we even building?”.

And then, over time, a lot of time we would take on the massive task of answering the real questions with each other. Patiently painful at times, yet always stunningly beautiful at the end of each story. We decided to answer our real questions instead of hold on to our observations.

My question: What are we doing here together?

His question: What are we even building?

And it was in the answers, and yes, note the plural: in our many answers where we found our commonality and our lifetime marital, soul-mate/life-mate connection. The answers surprised us because they often had nothing to do with being married and everything to do with being together. Silly right? We just happen to be married too.

He’s my Mr. Todd and still waters run deep.

I’m probably his – Mrs. T – and crazy hair makes me smile. (okay, so I made that up, but if I had to guess… that’s what I think he would say).

What questions might you be holding on to instead of listening to the stories of truth that live in the answers?

xxT

Thank you Body

January 13, 2016

Photo Credit Debra Stringfellow

Thank you Body

For the years of walking, running, dancing, for toes that look cute with polish.

For the belly, well deeper than that, which held four babies, of which three would breathe outside of you

For the tangles of hair that could do the flirting for me because I sucked at it and still do. It just seems ridiculous to me really. So thank you longish, brownish, redish, curlyish hair for doing for me what I never really understood the purpose of.

For the hands that plunge daily into hot soapy water, twist and scrape cookie dough, change propane tanks, strike matches, hold me upright on a bicycle and know how to love by wandering.

For the mouth that never stops wondering, chatting, chewing, kissing, smiling and welcoming people to this inner circle of mine.

For the brain… oh my brain… oh this wild engine of mystery that calls for me to know more about it though doesn’t need me to at all. For letting me take you for granted for so long, because I can.

For this heart that beats in perfect rhythm, my unique footsteps through time. A heart that doesn’t measure, only beats beats beats. Thank you.

Do I talk about sex here? That feels weird but even more ridiculous to skip it. Okay… thank you … ummmm sexy bits for delight, for words that have no sound, for an invitation an ever constant invitation for more of me of you of we of of of so much.

For this skin that holds me together.

For this skeleton that stands me.

For these eyes that not only sees you, but allows you to really see me. No pretending. No hiding. Sees me.

For wonder. Thank you body for knowing everything while I do not.

Thank you for this. I live because of you.

xxT

Yearnings Ignite, Goals Fade

January 9, 2016

We’ve all done it: Set a goal. Some of us have even reached that goal, but most of us don’t, or we do but it takes longer than it should, or we kinda get there, or when we do get there we wonder: What was all that fuss was about?

I’m a recovering goal setter because I’ve been a firey one for years. Oh man how I love both January and September. Mmmmmm cracking open a fresh journal, plotting out my quiet time to map out what I’m doing next, buying a new pen or finding just the right one with the best tip… oh boy. Who needs sex when you have goals? Truly, it’s weirdly almost that good for me. Did you catch it though? It’s the SETTING of the goal that’s intoxicating, not the doing of it. That’s why it’s knocked out a morning romp or an evening of candlelight for me – oh my poor partner, if he only knew when he married me that he’d be upstaged by a journal and a pen.

Why do we like to set goals more than achieve them? Because they’re fired up by the heat of our yearnings.

Why do we attend conferences and trainings and retreats only to come home and stay the same just different? Because possibility is a re-chargeable battery pack.

Why do we achieve goals, feel happy and then start all over again? What’s with this empty-full-empty-full cycle we all seem to crave? Because we’re feeding our external story instead of being nourished by our internal one.

I say all of this because today (as in right now) I’m in a retreat for my network marketing business and it’s January. Guess what we’re doing tonight? Yup… setting goals except I don’t call them that anymore, they’re targets instead. They’re focal points. They’re intentions. Why? Because goal fatigue kills business, and rah rah rah-ing some people’s pinnacle achievements creates a divisive culture, fractures teams and sabotages the very essence of what makes a team work: a common drive, togetherness and not individual achievements or goals.

Could I be talking semantics here – sure, but words are insanely important to me and I do my best to choose them wisely. The living story of the word goal these days shows up like a ‘line in the sand’, a ‘set point’, a measurement of ‘accountability’ – think the super popular S.M.A.R.T. goals: Specific, Measureable, Attainable, Realistic and Timely. Everything here is externally motivated. A SMART goal of mine for this blog might be:

It is January 10th 2016 and I am happily celebrating having shared this blog with 100 people.

So let’s say that all of the above happens. I wake up on January 11th, I’ve done my due diligence and I’ve nailed my goal. What happens now? How do I feel now? What is my take away now? What is fueling my next ‘goal’ now?

Well, I’m back at the beginning again aren’t I? I am starting all over. My take away is that I probably feel pretty good about myself for having ‘achieved’ my goal, but now, if I slow down enough to actually feel anything at all, I’m a bit empty, daunted and let down. How come I just achieved that goal and now I’m back at the beginning again? Damn these goals, they’re so elusive. Will I ever get there? So then the fuel for my next goal becomes hope, possibility, and the drive that one day, maybe, just possibly, I will arrive. It will stop because I will reach a celebratory finish line. I will raise my arms in the air, someone will notice this incredible moment other than just me and I’ll be handed a lifetime gold medal of having done ‘my all’ and I never ‘have to’ achieve anything again. I will be done.

As if right? And frankly, how boring and how demeaning to this incredibly complex and beautiful human experience.

Here’s my suggestion. Switch your goals to your yearnings. Focus on the deeper wants, the heart beat that comes without you trying, the dreams that wake you up at night with desire, the fire that never goes out instead. Here’s my example and creation:

Y.E.S. Goal: What is it you YEARN for? Make it your most EXCELLENT of work, and always SITUATE it for SUCCESS (or do-able).

again…

Y.E.S. Goal:

What is it you YEARN for?

Make it your most EXCELLENT of work,

and always SITUATE it for SUCCESS.

Here’s my rewrite: Today I write a passionate and honest blog about goals vs. yearnings and I am personally committed to reaching 100 people by Tuesday January 12th because what I write, I care about, and what I share, I live.

Here’s the original: It is January 10th 2016 and I am happily celebrating having shared this blog with 100 people.

Which one would be worth your heart, effort and energy to achieve? Which one isn’t an achievement at all but rather a compelling decision to live fully?

Here’s to you and all that fires you up.

xxT

A Face, Heart and a Dream

January 8, 2016

Tonight a handful of team members from my network marketing biz are gathering at Xenia Retreat Centre for a Mastermind Retreat away into their business and their lives.

We’ll eat (always). We’ll talk (of course) about how we can live more healthfully and passionately. We’ll dig in (needed) to the areas of our business that are clunky and beg for attention. We’ll get clear about what goals/targets/intentions really matter to us and what we’re willing to truly show up for this year. We’ll sharpen our skills (stretch always) and we’ll take on this live/work balance conundrum that is so personal to each of us. We’ll lift each other up because it’s often easier to see greatness in others before we can see it in ourselves.

It’s just another day at the office – rich and challenging because none of us ‘have’ to go to this work, we choose it instead. Wow, it’s so much easier to procrastinate our way out of that isn’t it? It’s a business of people, as in we get paid when we sell stuff to people and when we nurture and coach people too (which isn’t everybody’s natural skill set and it takes time to learn) – makes it complicated. A lot of us struggle with getting paid when there’s ‘people’ involved! ack! How can that be fair or honest? Here’s the thing I’ve learned over a decade in the industry, it’s actually the most honest work I can do. When there’s a face, a heart, a dream, or a family on the other side of what I do, it is my deep privilege to show up. These are people after-all, not faceless ‘team members and prospects’. Crazyyyy but my best friends have come from this business. These are the people who have walked through personal and professional fires with me and I with them. I don’t need to get paid for that, but wow, what an illogical bonus that I do.

Whatever you do for a living, my wish for every single one of us is that wherever you are Monday to Friday and beyond, that you’re part of a community, you belong, you love and are loved. That’s real wealth.

xxT

Really Okay Being Okay Being Okay Being Okay

January 4, 2016

This started out as a little Facebook update and became so much more – so here it is for you.

I’m back in the saddle… This year I choose Joy. This year I work 9am – 3pm only. This year as mama, I nourish the little boy inside my 6 year old who thinks he needs to be 15yrs old to matter. This year I honour the athlete inside of me. Bring on my first real triathlon – and not to reach my absolute pinnacle of best, but rather to enjoy cycling, running and swimming. This year I date my husband. I laugh, I love, I fall into deep gazes without glancing at my to do list. This year I juice and eat slowly at a family table because it feels awesome, not to avoid the c-word, and not because of it either. This year I take on my financial ‘story’ as the main character instead of reading it like it’s ‘happening to me’ – the good stuff and the hard stuff. I’m the main character. This year I write my books… I own my story and I give it away, neither proudly or meekly. I give it away because it’s what I’m designed to do. This year I’m a proud Arbonne consultant and Network Marketer and I make a difference in the world of selling, and home-based entrepreneurs. I care that there is another way for those who don’t do corporate, who aren’t designed to do the education/profession thing, who can’t find peace in the 9-5, who don’t experience joy in the Entrepreneur Game. I care deeply that not everyone fits in this big box of paths and professions that keeps getting bigger and bigger and bigger with all the labels that we think is our identity – is what’s safe. Nahhhhh I don’t think my way is any better – it’s simply an alternative and it works for me. What works for you? This year I’m willing to champion that. This year I’m really okay being okay being okay being just okay. This year I am TinaOLife, all connected under one umbrella: Selling isn’t slimey, Marketing isn’t make-believe: Authenticity is the New Spin. Your Life is your Living Story, and the alignment of your Mindset, Soulset, Skillset and Body way to live = a perpetual motion machine. Life isn’t doing, Love isn’t running, and Family isn’t a place to hide-out. This year I stand. This year TinaOLife is what I do because I share who I am as we all do. Come with me. It’s Monday Morning and I’m starting today.

Big Love to the mentors who at various forks in the road stood and simply smiled at me because they saw my story before I did. Chris Dierkes,Carolyn Nesbitt, Cindy Schreyer, Jacqueline Samuda, Shelley Klassen,Andrea Wray, Miel Bernstein, Mary-Jane Mehlenbacher, Nicolle Nattrass,Meribeth Jasmine Deen, Tara Caffelle, Diana Gilbert, Isabelle Mercier Turcotte, Mr. Todd Ingram and more I’m sure. So much more. Today. Here we go.

xxT

January 1st – Ten Reasons Why

January 2, 2016

What have I done? Did I really decide to share my life with you every day? Doesn’t that require writing? A commitment? You see, I have this issue with ‘have to’s’, even when they start out as a ‘want to’. No kidding. Oh no… and then there’s that grammar and spelling thing. I’m a pretty good speller but I’m not a detail gal. Damnit, I’m going to have crazy ass mistakes out there for the world to see. Okay, well, the world is a big place so, correct that: I’m writing a blog post every day for the next 365 days for a lot of people to see.

Yes I do care if it’s read.

Yes I do care if it grows.

Yes I do care if there’s an audience for this.

Come on now, if I wanted to write for myself, I’d write in my journal or I’d go for a hike and talk to myself (and yes I do these things too). This is for you as much as it is for me. So here goes: I am writing a post to you, sharing my life with you, my insights, my stumbles, my FU’s, my ridiculousness and depth for the next 365 days because:

TEN REASONS WHY…

#1 – Having the world as an audience means there’s nowhere to hide, and with that, the gift of honesty continues to give generously – and likely more to me than to you.

#2 – I know that I can’t say that I actually KNOW anything, as in for sure, as in take it to my grave, and I’m so tired of the expert industry – of the insanity of people thinking they know what’s best for people they don’t even know. I mean, really? As if they could. Yeeeeesh. Nope. This blog is an invitation for you to come on in and engage with what I think, what I notice, what I want to put public. There’s freedom in being seen, and I hope my style stirs up a sense of wildness inside of you.

#3 – I do my best thinking when I’m not. Writing, speaking and doing gets me out of my head so that what I think can just show up. You’re my open stage for words to find my experiences. Thank you for listening.

#4 – Okay, that’s the fluffy truthful stuff, now on to the crap that dogs my trail: it’s a monstrous challenge for me to commit to any kind of a daily action. Yes I brush my teeth and sleep daily too, but even these I try to negotiate at times (spank me now). Hands down, I’m a gold medal champion at resistance. I even resist my resistance. This bloody blog is going to bring all the stuckness in my resistance story up to the surface. Blech. At newly 45 years old though, it’s probably about time. I wonder what I’ll find.

#5 – Chopping wood and carrying water is and has always been my most fulfilling accomplishment – because it isn’t one. Do you know what I mean or have I lost you? Chopping wood – like showing up simply because it’s what needed. Carrying water – like doing the do because it’s what’s asked for. It never occurred to me that I could set a goal (I hate goals) to chop wood and carry water. The adrenalin that goes with setting, striving and reaching goals has cost me dearly in my life. Sure I have a long list of accomplishments but who cares when there’s been little fulfillment. 365 days of blogging will become my daily practice. I might even be re-writing my story about goals by living them in a new way.

#6 – Inspiration is exhausting, but fulfillment is not. I’m not even exactly sure why this is on the list, I just know it needed to be said.

#7 – I like to write. Correction: I love to write. I love to listen to the words that come out of my fingertips. That’s joyful for me.

#8 – Words matter, and this is my way of saying so do I, so do you, so do we. Our stories are our past and our future. Oh boy, did I just say that I matter? I did didn’t I? That’s the name of my first book.

#9 – I am very comfortable being ‘seen’ in glimpses, you know through photographs or on stage etc…, but over time, not so much. Being seen is very different than being known. What would my life be like if I was known?

#10 – After 365 days of being in my own witness protection program: I suspect I’ll be more of who I came here as, and more of whom I designed to be. That’s cool. That’s really cool to me.

Here’s to 365 days of Joy. Oh wait a minute, I’m ahead of myself. That’s for today. Yes I am writing yesterday’s post today. Yesterday was January 1st, a holiday and I don’t believe in working on holidays. I need downtime too. So this list of Ten Reasons Why is for yesterday, today. Today I will also write today’s.

Still with me? Awesome. Stay.

xxT

Announcing TinaOLife’s Regular Contributors

December 9, 2015