Failure Is Like Coat Racks At Night

They can look like Monsters in the Dark.  Lurking in the corner.  Waiting to jump out and ambush you as you trek back to bed after grabbing the last Ferrero Rocher.  The relief floods over you after the  flick of the  lightswitch and see it’s nothing but your daughter’s coat on the coat rack.  In the corner by the door.

To me Failure can be like Coat Racks at Night.  Just something Inanimate.  Hanging Out.  Doing it’s Job and being Hated for it.  Let me explain.

Yesterday over a serendipitous lunch with my dear photographer friend Sharmi, we got into this fabulous discussion.  Great conversations is just par for the course with Sharm.  She told me at night she discusses with her children what they Failed at that day.  “What did you do that was kinda crummy…?” she says to her three little boys.   They have this easy discussion around that Dreaded Word.  In other words, she flicks the light switch.  Get’s it out in the Open.  Takes the Scary out of it.

Basically what she’s teaching her kids is to be a Tenacious Failure.  That’s basically all successful people are anyway.  Success will never be a Destination.  It is a Journey.  Any person that you have labeled Successful is still waking up every morning and failing that day on some level.  But they Readjust and Reevaluate.  They’re Tenacious with their actions to reach their goals.  They stay Inspired.

In other words, the lights are always on.  They don’t make Monsters out of Coat Racks. Failure’s just doing its job.  Hanging Out.  Getting you where you need to go.  Fail today my friends.  It’s OK.  Because it means you’re living and moving towards your goals.  I’m proud of you.  I love you. xo

 

 

 

 

 

The Power Half Hour

Half Hour Power.  I think I found the answer to Procrastination.  Backstory.  I get super overwhelmed when I don’t need to.  It’s because I’m a Perfectionist.  When I look at a box to be sorted, I don’t just see a box.  It morphs into a greasy pile of ooze that’s toxic. My brain starts doing the ol’ tsunami siren…it starts as a small whiny noise in my head and escalates to ear piercing in seconds.  I drown out the noise by often escaping into my phone.  I’ll even bake something just so I can avoid it.  There’s a term for it…Procrastibaking.  I used to see sorting a box as a very labour intensive process that includes:

Multi Coloured Pens

A Pie Chart

Seventeen Other Boxes To Sort It Perfectly

A Perfect Motivational Playlist

The Temperature and Humidity of Garden Of Eden

 

Now I say “You got Half Hour”.  As per Mel Robbins I count backwards from five.  I close my eyes….

 

Five, Four, Three, Two, One…Blast Off…

 

I cruise for half hour.  When it’s up I’m so tempted to extend my time. But I time restrict. When you leave a job wanting more, you trick your brain into thinking it was fun.  And you know what, you probably did have fun.  Because the pressure was off.  You weren’t going to get it perfect.  You just were going to get something done.  In a Half Hour.  Guess who can’t wait for another Half Hour in her basement?

Yep, Me.

This was just one pointer I share in my class.  I’ll be sharing more as the week goes on.  Happy Motivational Monday.  I love you.

 

 

 

My Tribe

I consider them all precious jewels.  Some shining their lights from the Atlantic shores…curled up  with their spouses, reading my blog and shedding a empathetic tear.  So precious and heartwarming.  To think someone radiates such love for you it is felt over the thousands of miles.  I received a message from a dear jewel of the Pacific yesterday.  My Beautiful Hawaiian Princess on the Big Island.  I wake up to this message, “I’m glad you are sailing with me, my soul sister!” My heart is so comforted. I can see her brown skin and long dark hair.  Her beautiful smile and gentle happy Hawaiian accent.  I just spent a week in Victoria, British Columbia on the shores of the Pacific Ocean with my darling Nadia.  Squelching around in our rubber boots, enjoying the safety of each other’s love.  Never have I felt safer than when I am with Nadia.  I would say she loves me fiercely.  Fiercely Loyal.  My heart becomes silent and reverent at the thought of my dear sweet Tracey.  My Utah Diamond Friend.  She’s the one I adorn my heart with the moment I wake from sleeping.  Often the one who is last put off to sleep at night.  She’s borne the fury of the gale with me.  She’s straightened my sails.  Readjusted my focus.  Made me laugh till tears streamed down my face.  She’s a goofball with angel wings.  When I feel deeply loved, I’m so very aware that this is because my dear friends have the CAPACITY to love.  Because true love is unconditional.  It just shows up.  These women show up.  Every day they shed their love into the world.  To their coworkers, their neighbours, their family, the store clerks, even those who test their kind hearts.  Because they believe in the power of love to change the world.  To ease burdens and give strength to the weary.  That’s why they shed tears of love, that why they send late night text messages.  That’s why they invite you on a week’s vacation when you really can’t afford it.  Because they love to love.  And that’s why they love me.  This is just a small little glimpse into my treasure box of jewels.  There’s so many that shine in there, there’s not enough time or blog space for you all.  Just know I wear you all with such gratitude.  Around my neck and draped over my heart. xoxo

 

 

 

 

In.sight.ful

def. intuitive, perspective, thoughtful, intelligent, profound, keen, incisive, acute, discerning, razor sharp

 

I treasure it.  I say it slowly.  Allowing the compliment to seep into my psyche.  The lady who coordinated my class I taught on Monday said my class was ‘insightful’.  Sometimes when I have a victory or a success, I go back and tell my young little self.  Waking up from her drowsy sleep under her Holly Hobby quilt.  I whisper in her soft warm ear.  “You did something great!”  “You taught a class, can you imagine….dear heart!”  I imagine my heart as a little girl taking courage from it.  Knowing her life would have a purpose.  That she would have a story to tell.  Something to share to inspire and help others.  I feel so humbled.  And thankful.  Thankful for every experience of desperation that made me tap into Potential.  Every darkened lonely path that taught me Faith.  Made me cling to Hope.  That opened my eyes to Possibility.  I think of the word Vulnerability.  Brene Brown, the author and public speaker, helps us so much to understand the power of it.  In order to move out of our comfort zones and into our purpose, we must embrace Vulnerability.  Stepping out onto the ledge.  The Ledge of Uncertainty.  Maybe I’ll sink.  Maybe I’ll swim.  Either way I will grow and evolve and that excites me.  If we care too much about what others think or their opinion, we never will.  If we have something that burns within us, that’s our purpose.  My daughter Helen said after I made her and her fiancee sit through a dry run class, “Mom, you have a heart beat.  So you have a purpose. I think you’ve discovered yours.”  She has no idea how much I loved her and her sweet introspective heart at that moment.  I repeat her words to myself many times a day.  Everyone of us has a heart beat.  Everyone of us has a purpose.  Love you all.

Never Too Old

I have a dream of being a ballet teacher to children one day.  I see myself with my grey hair in a little ballerina bun bending low to hear the whispered requests of darling children.  So one beautiful sunlit evening last summer after work, found me walking down 8th Avenue to my first ballet class at Alberta Ballet.  I really don’t dance beyond myself with one of my children as hostages.  My dog Charlie dances with me quite happily.  So it is with anticipation and a lot of drummed up courage that I find myself making this happy trek.  I meet one of my acquaintances from Nordstrom who worked in shoes along the way.  He’s waiting for his taxi.  I tell him where I’m going.  He said with a flourish, “Of course, you’re a ballet teacher!  How did I not pick up on that!” He clearly is a soothsayer, I say to myself.  No, he is just ridiculously kind.  But it did set me on my journey with a bit more confidence, strengthening my resolve that seemed to grow weaker with each step.  Heartened, I press the buzzer to be let in.  Clutching my gear tightly under my armpit.  My finger was definitely trembling.  My teacher is perfect.  She’s delicate and blonde with even a heavy french accent.  My heart is thrilled.  I look around.  There’s women and girls stretching.  There is even a woman waiting to play the piano as we dance.  I’ve never plied before.  Ever.  I didn’t even try it in the mirror before I left the house.  Talk about winging it.  But I’m excited.  Long ago I lost my need to appear skilled.  I just was so happy to be there.  Participating.  Enjoying this moment in time.  It was a magical hour.  I plied.  I danced.  I adored the rhythm of my wonderful teachers voice as we all dipped and twirled.  It was such a pure expression of beauty.  I’m even more impassioned to become a ballerina teacher to little children.  For I feel, it takes more love and commitment to building their confidence then skill.  But for now, I will build my skill.  And i will learn to build my own confidence by each day stretching myself out of my comfort zone.  I hope you will too today.  Love you all.