Author Archives: Pat

A Love Letter (on better loving)

21 Monday Mar 2016

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Dear GM,

Remember when you hadn’t gotten a job yet after we moved here, and I’d come home from my job and ask what you did all day?  Sometimes I’d wonder how you could “just” sit track record for bad daysin front of the computer or the TV all day.   I understand now what you must have gone through, now that I’m home all day (well, most of the day, most of the time).  You were always so patient with me, telling me the trivia of your day, and asking about mine.  I took for granted the lawn being mowed or the dogs being cared for or the trash being out at the curb for pickup because you never made a big deal out of that.

I know now that sometimes it’s hard to even get the day going.  For example, I’m out of milk so couldn’t have my usual cold cereal for breakfast.  I hemmed and hawed til I finally decided on oatmeal and yogurt this morning.  I went upstairs to get dressed, only to remember that I had to go back downstairs and get the clean laundry I washed yesterday.  And fold and put it away. And make the beds in the guest rooms with clean sheets.  And remake our bed because the dogs had destroyed it already.

 

 

I came down to the office to write this blog post. It was about 10:00 already. It’s taken me almost five hours to get to actually writing it. I decided to “quickly” check Facebook (turns out there is no such thing)  and Linked In.  Since I’ve decided to go gung-ho and start my own speaking business, I then decided I needed to update my profiles. I at least got Linked In done. And played a little with website design ideas. I’m sure you’re just smiling in recognition.

I got up to get a cup of tea, and the dogs thought it must be time to eat again. I must have said “no” a half dozen times, and I finally gave in to the whining and gave them a biscuit. Then I realized they hadn’t been outside in a few hours, so I quickly took them out.

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Buddy

This has repeated throughout the day.  I see the grass should be cut, although I just did it last weekend.  I checked the mail and see I have a new Cox bill. I haven’t reconciled the checkbook in a week or more. When I got back in the house,  I ran around and did a pee-scan to make sure the boys hadn’t left a surprise somewhere in the house while I had been ignoring them earlier.

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Bo

 

There isn’t anything here to eat for lunch since I didn’t get groceries this weekend. So I had the last apple. Now I’m thinking I should make a trip to the store, so a list is in the making.

It’s early afternoon, and while I have done at least one productive thing that counts as “work,” I haven’t gotten done anything else on that list of Things To Do.

All of this is the roundabout way of saying, I’m sorry if I ever came across as dismissive of the time you were home and I wasn’t.  I can see now how a million little things get in the way of doing things. How you put up with me is a mystery.  Even when you must been stressed or bored or tired, you always had dinner ready for me (or a plan to go somewhere).  We were so new here, and you probably had no one else to talk to all day, and yet you let me do most of the talking. When I wanted to go to the library, or to a movie, or for a walk, or for a motorcycle ride, you were always willing to set aside your plans (unless it was hunting or fishing you had planned!) and come along with me. Thank you for keeping me company.

It’s more work than I knew to keep a house and yard maintained, and a relationship solvent. You were a quality partner and a best friend.  We had our fights, but you made sure neither of us gave up on the other.  I don’t know if I appreciated everything you did and how hard you worked to keep our lives afloat.  When I get tired and feel like throwing a Pat pics thru yrs0009pity party because no one knows how I feel, I remember that you knew. You carried the load much of the time, even when I didn’t realize it or appreciate it.  You give me strength now, too.  I am so damn lucky to have you in my life. I wanted you to know that. I still love you, but I think I love you better now.

 

Always and forever, PQ

PS-I still can’t figure out your password to your old computer.  If you get a minute, can you please send me another hint?  The last one didn’t get me very far.  Thanks!

My trip on the path of grief

17 Thursday Mar 2016

Posted by in Grief, Sabbatical, Transformation, Uncategorized

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Yesterday I skimmed through my personal journal since Kevin died. I didn’t have time to look back through Facebook posts or Pinterest captures, but that will be coming, as I explore how I have changed, and how my focus on life has changed in the past year+.  So far; I know there is more to come.  One quick observation was that I wrote a LOT more often in the beginning of my grieving season than lately.  And I’m so glad I did.  As I’ve been thinking about “emptying my cup” (see blog last week), I realized that writing in my journal was a way of letting go of all the thoughts I had running around in that zone called the Neutral Zone when one is in the midst of a significant change like this.

He left this earth on November 23 just before midnight.  I cried all of December, and lost 17# (which I have gained back, and then some). I went back to work two weeks later, on December 9, which in retrospect, I see was way too soon.  I should have taken a month or two, just to sleep and let out the tears and handle the paperwork.  I ran away once but came back the same day.  In January, I attacked the house. I started repainted everything, took down Kevin’s dead animals and Redlin hunting prints and related items. It was January 23, two months to the day, that I noted it was the first day I hadn’t cried.  It took me another few months to nearly finish the “reclaiming” of the house, with new appliances and changing out some furniture.  It was July before I had help from my sister Peggy to repair the hole I put in the wall of the guest bedroom…I didn’t punch the wall, I ripped off a shelf back in December.

In February I had one three-day crying streak.  That’s when I sought counseling and group support and an online life coach. (That’s me – all or nothing.)  In March I held a vision board workshop in my dining room, trying to force myself to gather some clarity about the future. Called in sick to work a few times because I wasn’t sleeping and was crying A LOT. I noted that I felt like I was in free-fall.  Looking back, it seems that the shock had worn off and I was beginning to feel my feelings then.  It’s important to know I wasn’t alone during this time. I had company in December for the holidays, January, March, April, and May.  And I went to Minnesota in April for a wedding and to Ohio in May for a siblings/birthday get-together.  My mid-April I was thinking of quitting work, since a request for an adjusted work schedule was not to be.  I cleaned out Kevin’s clothes and put his bike and boat for sale.

In June, people at work complained about me. I had become intolerant of the smallest indiscretions or errors, and first-class bitchy over the big issues. I tried motorcycle therapy but it was no fun and I thought about selling the bike.  I started anti-depressants. The sleep deprivation had caught up to me, and I couldn’t go on crying forever.  I didn’t even like my own company.  Immediate relief! I slept all night long for the first time in months.  I noticed I started writing “about” Kevin instead of “to” him in the journaling. I was now thinking of a leave of absence at work instead of quitting.

In July I spent some time back up in my Diva Den, painting and crafting. I created a Get-a-Life Tree of leisure activities I used to enjoy and made plans to try some of them again.  File_000 (7)I watched complete movies and read entire books instead of just pages.  I continued the updates in the house, and Peggy fixed the hole in the wall.  She came here, and I went to her house also.  In August I was ready for a vacation, and rode my motorcycle again.  I noted I was feeling more like me again.  It was now I started thinking about writing a book on the grieving experience. But for some reason I also started worrying about money, and I thought about moving.  September I met with a realtor about selling the house, but had out of state work trips to Minnesota and Seattle, and made a side trip to Los Angeles, so no time to decide.

Feeling like I was capable of making good decisions again, I gave notice at my job in October, started my blog,  and at the one-year anniversary of Kevin’s passing, I began my personal sabbatical. In December I was finally able to catch up on my sleep and get comfortable being in my house, just me (and the dogs).  I visited the kids for the holidays, and when I returned to Virginia, I knew I was home. I didn’t want to leave any more.  I started reading a book a day,  cooking for myself, and making plans for the coming year. On January 4, I wrote that I was “feeling good, optimistic, interested, and open.”

It was a long way in to the depths of my grieving, but I am clearly well on my way out now. I have the occasional sad moments still, but I can think of other things besides him and us and poor me.  I still tell him about my day, and include him in my prayers, and ask him for advice.  It appears I have survived the worst of it, and yes, I know I’m not totally through the weeds or out of the woods yet. I am still wandering but definitely am not lost.

Emptying my cup(s)

12 Saturday Mar 2016

Posted by in Sabbatical, Transformation

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You are a gift to this world! (shine)

This is one of my favorite coffee mugs. I got it in the Minneapolis airport on my way to Virginia when I started my new job here.  I used it every day at the office, and since I’ve been home I rotate it with some of my other mugs. I choose one depending on whether I am having coffee or tea (or occasionally hot mulled wine), and whether it’s morning or afternoon or evening, how much I expect to drink, if I’m sipping or drinking, and who-knows-what-else as the mood strikes me.  Sometimes I use my mugs as décor, holding pens or markers or other things in my work space. Here are some more of my favorites.

 

Then yesterday I came across this story:  A student goes to see a Zen Master one morning. She wants to learn Zen.  She talks on and on and on, telling the Master what she already knows about Zen, and sharing her life experiences. While she is talking, the Master offers her some tea.  She nods acceptance and continues on with her stories as the Master begins pouring the tea.  The student keeps talking. And the Zen Master keeps pouring.  The teacup fills up and begins to overflow. The student is still talking but watching the Master who is still pouring. Finally, annoyed, the student stops talking and gestures to the Master to notice that the cup is overflowing.  “What are you doing? No more will go in!” The Master looks at her and gently replies to her, “Like this cup, you are full of your own notions, habits, opinions, thoughts, and judgments.  In order to learn Zen, you must start by emptying  your cup, emptying your mind, and creating space for new ideas, thoughts, and possibilities.”

Aha!  I think my cup(s) is (are) full right now. The purpose of my sabbatical is to rest, which I can’t do very well if I am too busy filling my cup.  I also want to learn new things, but there isn’t much room.  I want to prepare for the Next Big Thing, but I’m lacking clarity still. I have to create the necessary space for the new ideas and opportunities.  I’ve been slowly clearing clutter and reorganizing the stuff in my house, and I’m sleeping so much better, but I’m still keeping myself busy…so I don’t get bored, so I don’t get lonely, so I don’t feel lazy and undeserving of this break.  I think it’s time I stop pouring and start emptying my mind.  (As soon as I finish this last book I’m reading, The Success Principles by Jack Canfield. I am on #54, and there are 67.  I have about 100 pages to go.)

So I have a new plan. When I go camping next weekend, I will not take any books or projects that are looking for space in my mind.  I will give myself time to reflect and empty out … while walking, sitting by a fire, watching the sunset, listing to the birds, maybe coloring at a picnic table. And if I get overwhelmed with the silence, I will write in my journal to satisfy myself that my thoughts are recorded somewhere so I can let go of them and create space for new thoughts.  I will stop trying so hard to justify this sabbatical or prove myself, and I will just let myself “be” for a while.

I will think again about what might be in the way of my having more clarity about the path I am on and where I am headed. I need all my energy intact, and to know where my energy is going.  That’s what I think clarity is about, having my energy directed deliberately instead of leaking out slowly because of inattention.

I’ll be sure to take a mug along to remind me of this.

TGIM!!

07 Monday Mar 2016

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Yes, it’s Monday, and I’m happy about it.  For one thing, my baby sister and her family will be arriving today for spring break.  It’s always a good thing to spend time with them.

And  I had a great weekend.  I got my house cleaned for the coming company.  When the house is clean and uncluttered, I find that my thinking is clean and uncluttered, too.  I spent the rest of day with my friend Diane.  We started with lunch, did a little shopping, and then I learned how to do beading.  I love crafting!  By last night I had three new pair of earrings, two new bracelets, and two “new” necklaces that were restrung and reshaped. A productive weekend resulted in restful sleep.  I actually feel energetic today.

Also making today a great Monday is the weather.  I live in abundance, and today it’s abundant sunshine.  The rest of the week is supposed to get into the high 70’s.  I really like the sound of that, don’t you?

The hot tub guy is here (again) to continue his work to find the leak.  I am optimistic that he will fix the problem and I’ll be soaking away soon.

I did have a nervous moment when I opened the mail and found that my IRA fund has also been leaking.  I have a few funds that are in oil/pipelines, so while I appreciate the lower rates at the gas pump, I am not so happy to see my account balance still heading south. Instead of just worrying, though, I contacted my agent and set up a call to discuss options.  Taking action is always a better option than doing nothing.  I may end up riding out this slide but I will do it by choice, not because I was too lazy to do anything.

It has been way too long since I have looked forward to a Monday.  So adding to my pleasure, I made sure every Monday in my planner is decorated in a sassy, spicy, or sweet way so I smile when I open to that page.

Ah, yes, Thank God It’s Monday!!

Breaking the Rules

03 Thursday Mar 2016

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I broke the rules today, and I’m paying the price in guilty feelings.  I’m usually a rule-follower, so yes, I do feel slightly naughty.  (wink)

When I started this sabbatical, I decided that I needed to be disciplined in order to fulfill my goals of recovery and positioning myself for The Next Big Thing.  Rule No. 1 was to get dressed every day. I suppose you could say that I’ve only bent this one, since it’s barely 5 pm, and technically I could go get dressed yet.  But it’s unlikely.  And wouldn’t you know it, the Schwan’s truck showed up today, and now the Scott’s Lawn Service guy is here.  Both drivers were too polite to say anything but when I showed up at the door in a blue fuzzy robe and slippers, they did raise their eyebrows just a smidge!

I didn’t set out to work in my pajamas; the day just got away from me.  Truly, I have been working at my computer all day.  I have completed 6 of 9 items on my To-Do list, and fTJMT_Founders_sealinishing this post will make No. 7.  One of the items was to check my access to the John Maxwell Team resources, since I haven’t been on that site in a v-e-r-y long time, and I am interested in starting up another study session of the 21 Irrefutable Laws of Leadership.  I not only was able to sign in immediately, but I then listened to two archived calls, one by Malissa West and one byNSA_professional_logo Paul Martinelli, for nearly 2 hours of webinar time.  I also did a bit of research on local professional photographers for a head shot session and responded to several emails related to the NSA Speaker Academy course I am enrolled in.  I’ve spent less than a half hour on Facebook and that was only to check out the John Maxwell Group’s site.

As fun as it sounds to work in your pajamas, it’s not really.  I have had a wide range of feelings in the past year+; this one is what cheating feels like.  I only took a quick break to grab two hard boiled eggs and make a cup of tea for lunch, as if I didn’t deserve to take a real lunch break.  In my own home, legitimately “working”!  What’s really odd is that yesterday afternoon I had another dip in my emotions, that slippery slide down where I suddenly (and yes, it was sudden) felt down and on the verge of tears falling. I don’t know what precipitated it; I know I was aware of it as it happened, and I tried to recall what might have been a trigger, but it was such an ordinary kind of afternoon, and nothing stuck out.  I checked -it’s been 27 days since my last funk.  I’m thinking that this is my hormones trying to rage on but not finding much purchase.  I never was much of a PMS-er but I did have an ugly time going through menopause.  The good news is that as soon as I recognized the dip, I told myself that it just meant it was time to take extra good care of myself for a bit.  So I went out to dinner.  And then I went to bed early. Today I feel good – which is why I got to my desk right after my cereal and first cup of coffee – I had a plan and energy enough to work the plan today.

But tomorrow I will shower and dress first thing, partly because I have a 10 o’clock meeting and Toastmasters at lunch.  TMStaying social was one of my other rules, and I haven’t broken that one.  I know how important it is to be connected and feel like I belong.  Funny thing about that – twice in the past two days, I have gone somewhere and ran into people I know. One was my neighbor when I went to a coffee date, and another was a fellow Toastmaster when I went to dinner last night.  There’s nothing like being recognized outside of the usual context of where we know people from.  It’s one thing to have a planned meeting; it’s another when getting dressed and going out results in not just a casual hello but a conversation.  So it seems like another good reason to get out of pajamas – you never know when you’ll want to step out or be invited to coffee.

It wasn’t as if I had a Ferris Bueller day off.  I just didn’t make it upstairs to get dressed. Maybe working in my pajamas might seduce me into never wanting to get dressed again, like a problem drinker just having one drink to relax. If that’s the case, I might need therapy again. It still feels weird. I think I’ll go put on some sweat pants at least and eat dinner like a civilized person.

 

 

Spring has sprung!

29 Monday Feb 2016

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My bushes and trees have large buds. The hyacinth and iris are shooting up out of the ground. I wanted a salad for lunch yesterday, and I dipped my toes in the ocean at the beach. I have been cleaning and airing out and reorganizing. Today’s 71 degrees has me smiling.  Yes, I am ready for spring.

Spring is the time for planting.  It is the time for the ground that has been resting or lying fallow to be nourished and prepared to take an obvious part in the life cycle again.  That describes me.  I think the “winter of my despair” is about over, and I am looking forward to blossoming again as the new me.

I was lucky enough to have my cousin Deb from Minnesota visiting over the weekend. We talked about so many things, but one of our conversations that has stayed with me was – drum roll – the weather!  It was unseasonably warm there on Saturday, but today is was hovering near 0, while here it was in the 60’s on Saturday and hit 71 this afternoon.  She said she didn’t want to go back to the frigid prairie today. And I agreed with no hesitation.  She got on the plane anyway.

It wasn’t just the temperature that got me thinking, but that was part of it, I suppose.  I had this sudden knowing that I am where I am meant to be.  More than the sunshine, I want to be here. In this house, in this neighborhood, in this town.  For the past 15 months or so, I have toyed with the idea of moving.  Because I didn’t have a solid reason for leaving, though, I stayed, but I was wide open to leaving.  Until that conversation.  I am home. I am not just comfortable, I belong.

I have no regrets about my past, but I did start my adult life early, with a pregnancy and marriage at age 18.  Until Kevin passed away, I have never lived alone.  Well, there was that year + when he was in Brookings and I was in Pierre, but it was temporary, and he was with me every weekend, so that doesn’t count in my mind.  This is forever, or at least the foreseeable future.  So many things I never tried, or places I never went, or people I didn’t meet, because I had made other choices that had long-term obligations attached to them.  This time, now, is my time.  While I have my health, adequate disposable income, and plenty of time, yes, this is my time to do whatever I want, wherever I want, with whomever I want.  Bloom where you are planted, goes the saying.  I’ve been planted here for some reason, so I’m going to do my blooming now.  Wherever I am, I am keeping a divine appointment, says the Daily Word meditation.  I am here, so it is meant to be.  What a wonderful time spring is! So full of anticipation, of possibility. I intend to bloom happy as a daisy and pretty as a pink button carnation.

I’m getting quite good at attracting what I want. Yesterday at the beach, Deb wanted a conch shell, and so I asked Kevin to put one where we could find it. I told him I wanted it orange-y, about the size of my fist, and unbroken.  Of course, we found one shortly thereafter. Deb was skeptical, so I then asked Kevin to give us a sand dollar, white, about the size of a silver dollar, and unbroken.  Immediately we came across one. And then a second one. Deb said he was showing off, and the second one broke in her hand!  The moral of the story is, I asked and I received.  Today I am asking for continued abundance in my life: abundant love, abundant energy, abundant friends, abundant health, abundant resources of all kinds.  I am soaking up all I need to blossom and grow and thrive  here.I am ready for more; I’m Solowingnow.  Bring it on.

Re-entry into my life

25 Thursday Feb 2016

Posted by in Grief, Traditions

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From last camper

I grew up camping, with 3 sisters, 1 brother, our parents, and a very small camper.  When I got older, I would go tent camping with girlfriends in high school, and eventually with husband #1 (and 3 children). The n there were years when the only thing close to camping was a hotel room, until I met husband #2. We tent camped, went to a small travel trailer, then to a nice 5th wheel.  We explored South Dakota, where we lived; Saskatoon, Canada; Lake of the Ozarks, Missouri; Black  Hills; Badlands of both North and South Dakota; county parks in Minnesota; and many state parks in South Dakota as well.  We sold our 5th wheel when we moved to Virginia, thinking we’d get another one once we were settled here.  We hadn’t gotten around to that yet when Kevin died. I wasn’t sure I was up for camping solo after that.  But that was then, and this is now.

One of the things you do when you are grieving, when you are starting to remember, is to choose happy times. We had so much fun making memories camping, from when the water heater started on fire, to the rhubarb pie we forgot on the table when it rained, to going to the theatre because it was raining, to Gabe slicing his foot with an axe chopping firewood, to Donald’s motorized margarita maker, to the turtle that didn’t’ make it across the road in time, to stunning sunsets, and great fish fries.  Oh, and the time I tried to make tangerine yogurt.  Or when Kevin cracked the camper on the immovable yellow post at the gas station, to losing the tv antenna because we forgot to put it down, and on and on and on.

There were also such peaceful times when he would go out fishing early and I would get to sleep I late, meander along trails with the dogs, being mesmerized by the campfire, and reading a good book.  No worries.  True R&R.

Camping was one of our very favorite things to do.  The first summer we had our first camper we went out 11 weekends. I don’t think we slowed down much until we got to Pierre and everything was 2-3 hours away instead of 1/2 hour to an hour. On a weekend, that was a big difference.

So I started thinking about it again recently. I wondered if I would enjoy it by myself (well, me and the dogs).  I went to RV shows, I researched campers online, visited a few stores. And then I found the one.  I brought her home today.  I admit I was freaked out when I pulled out of the dealer’s place this afternoon, but it didn’t take long for me to get comfortable behind the wheel.  Backing it in the storage lot between a utility trailer and a pop up camper was challenging, but also exhilarating when I did it.  That’s progress!  I even got it unhitched without too much trouble.  Thanks to my friend Diane for her help. I’d still be there if it wasn’t for her.

This whole adventure signals to me that I am well on the mend from my grieving days.  I am truly “solowingnow,” getting on with my life, refusing to sit home alone in silence or deny myself the pleasure of activities I used to enjoy.  I know it won’t be the same as when Kevin was with me, but I also know I am capable, ready, and willing to take a few more risks, meet some new people, and make new memories.

It’s a Summerland 2020, and it sleeps 3.  Hint: that means I still have room for at least one more camping buddy, or two if they are very friendly, or if one takes the floor. And we might have to share the dogs. I am excited to get started!  I have almost all the camping “stuff” from before, so it’s a matter of time to get it all down from the attic and see what I need this time around. I suppose it’s possible the next RV movie will be about me, but let’s hope it’s not quite that eventful.  Just a way to re-enter the world on my own terms.

Spring Cleaning

22 Monday Feb 2016

Posted by in Grief, Traditions, Uncategorized

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I am excited to have a stream of company visiting in the next several weeks.  My cousin Debbie arrives this week Friday, my sister Diane and her family will be here the following weekend, and at the end of March, my friend Diane’s aunt and uncle will be staying here while they attend a family get-together so large Diane can’t house them all at her place.  I love having company and am looking forward to the flurries of activity.

For me, having guests means I have to do an extra cleaning routine, like dusting where I usually let the dust bunnies sleep in peace. But it’s spring time so I took advantage of the nice weather over the weekend to open the windows for a while and get some fresh air in the house. As it happens, last week at Toastmasters, my new friend Roxanne gave a speech on decluttering.  She emphasized how that process not only clears the physical space around us, but it has the added benefit of clearing out mental space as well.  She recommended a book called The Life-changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo, which I haven’t ordered yet. However, I was motivated to get rid of the last two boxes of stuff I brought home my work office when I started this sabbatical last November.

The only way I could make room for the papers in these two boxes was to get rid of other stuff.  So I off-loaded an old computer printer and an equally ancient (2008?) laptop computer that Kevin does use anymore (ha ha).  And then I was fortunate to have a neighbor and kindred spirit of my hunter-fisherman husband come and relieve me of a large box of what a woman might call “excess accessories” and a hunter would call “necessary equipment.”  He’s also going to check out the options for a new home for some goose decoys and several fishing rods and tackle.

My thought is that I can help other hunters and fisher-people by providing equipment they might make use of and I no longer have need for.  Among the stages of grief, helping others is often recommended as an adjustment  step toward final acceptance of the loss and moving on in one’s life.  As I  let go of Kevin’s possessions, I have remembered how surprised I was when my stepmother still had not gone through my dad’s things nearly a year after his passing. At the time, I wasn’t sure what to think. Was she still in shock? Certainly she seemed disorganized and stuck, at a minimum.  Ah, if only I knew then what I know now! I had little enough compassion then, didn’t understand what she was going through.  I have since talked to her and apologized for my lack of understanding and what was no doubt some judging of her on my part. I’m happy to report she has forgiven me.

Many days fly by, and some drag on endlessly.  I take two steps forward and then one step back, and while it can be a struggle, that’s still forward progress.  I think most of my slide down the slippery slope of grief is over.  I haven’t had any emotional outbursts in quite a while; and even the occasional teariness is abating.  I am actively working on getting reorganized, engaging in more activities, and strengthening my relationships here.  A few new patterns related to a working style are emerging, and I am mostly optimistic about my future again.  Sounds like a healthy recovery, don’t you agree?

My mom was from that generation where Spring Cleaning (yes, with Capital Letters) and Fall Cleaning were traditions.  She, too, has joined the Angels Above, and I know she was telling her friends she taught me everything I know about bathroom floors yesterday.  I know this because I found a penny on the floor behind the commode in the guest bathroom (which I don’t use).  She always sends me pennies from heaven. Thanks, Mom.  And yes, it’s nice to have a shiny clean house.  At least until I let the dogs loose again. And if I don’t have any company later this year, I might forego the Fall event. I gotta tell you, I’m tired!

Ollin on My Life Purpose

19 Friday Feb 2016

Posted by in Dreaming, Grief, Sabbatical

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According to Kevin Hall, author of Aspire, a book I referred to recently, “ollin” is a word that describes me.  Here’s what Hall says: “Pronounced All-in, it is an expression of immense depth that conveys intense and immediate movement.”  He goes on to discuss its derivation, which is to move and act now with all your heart, or to follow your path in life wholeheartedly.

I know several people who would say that I do act with a certain amount of zest or passion when I decide to take something on. Or at least I did until last year, when I detoured into some deep grief. I’m working my way out again, though it’s not easy some days.  The funk I experienced about two weeks ago prompted me to get motivated about something, anything. So I read a book on self talk. Then I recorded myself repeating affirmations, which I listen to each night before I go to bed. I made a new vision board and posted some pictures on doors and mirrors. I bought another book and started reading it: Jack Canfield’s The Success Principles.  I made lists of things I like(d) to do and that I want to do again. .I pulled out some coaching materials from a course I took, and then  I made a deal with a friend to trade some personal coaching time. I made a coffee date to discuss some other partnership.  I engaged in a conversation with a new friend about getting organized.  I did some research on a Call for Proposals I am considering responding to. I cleaned some clutter in my office in order to clean some clutter in mind.  And yes, I do feel better (and a wee bit tired again!).  I don’t know if it’s because the funk passed, because I took (positive) action, or what … because I’m doing so much I can’t pinpoint what is working best.

I am doing all this, and I still can’t say with certainty that I have finally “discovered my purpose” as Hall’s book says I should be able to do, except whatever it is, I do it wholeheartedly.  I did Simon Sinek’s “Why” exercise, and I came up with “to inspire purposeful change so that people will help themselves to help others.” I have done the Canfield Life Purpose Exercise as well. What I’ve come up with there is: To share my knowledge and ideas in an energetic way that challenges yet supports people to help others in a positive way.  That’s kind of wordy, but maybe it says what I am trying to say .. and be.. and do.

I think all of this is what I have been doing in my career, regardless of the title I held or the geography I camped out in.  I’ve always had good enough reasons why I didn’t just go ollin on this path. But I think now is the time for me to break out of the confines of my past  work environments and go for it.  Solowingnow seems appropriate still. Speaking of camping, Kevin and I used to talk about my becoming a speaker or author or consultant, and he being my manager. We dreamed that we’d buy a motorhome, he’d sign up my gigs and chauffeur me around the country so I could do my work, and we’d camp along the way and see some sites while we were at it.  But we always ended up working for someone else, on their priorities.  We always thought we’d have more time, and of course, we found out we didn’t; but I do.  So among my other “intense and immediate” actions, I bought a camper today.

I’ve decided I’m going to keep on this path, and I’m ollin!  This sabbatical has already proven useful, as I’ve resourced myself up with all kinds of books and webinars and meetings.  Now I have the time also to pull together a solid business plan. And make some contacts.

One thing grief does – after it forces you to shut down and rest – is that it helps you sift out the “I don’t wants” so you can not only feel lighter but see things more clearly.  It gives you the time to find your reserve energy and get comfortable with expressing the “I wants” more often.  It’s so easy to give in and settle, to take cover and stay there, to defer to what everyone else (including society at large) thinks is better for you. Grief makes you say out loud that you didn’t do the things you planned – and it reminds you there is still time for YOU if you so choose.  I no longer ask “what’s the worst that can happen?” I already know the answer to that one.

Solowingnow

15 Monday Feb 2016

Posted by in Grief, Sabbatical, Uncategorized

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Just about five years ago (4/20/11), I engaged in an exercise recommended in a book titled Aspire by Kevin Hall.  I asked my friends and family to send me one word they would use to describe me.  The intent is to “discover your purpose through the power of words.” No “purpose” was revealed to me, or at least I didn’t find it.

This is that list. I keep it on my desk and look at it regularly.  Usually I’d guess that people would stop seeing this kind of thing after so long, but it struck a chord with me. I use it as a reminder of who I am, or was, or at least who people think I am.  File_000 (1)Perception has a way of becoming reality, and I’m grateful the words are positive.  Even though I’m on a personal sabbatical now to examine my life and prepare for The Next Big Thing, I sometimes feel as if I’m trying too hard to force the issue and have some answers.  You’ll note the word “patient” is not on this list!

 

I know different people now and my life has changed significantly since then.  I wonder what people would say today.  But I’m not going to ask….yet. I have to make sure I’m strong enough to hear whatever they have to say.

 

Here are a few words I would use to describe myself today: insecure, unclear, observant, inquisitive, responsible, careful, deliberate, impatient.

This is why I called this site Solowingnow – being on my own. powered by own wings, not yet adopting the term widow but not feeling single, trying to focus on the present moment, when things run together sometimes and get jumbled up.