The Power of “Getting Out”

On Friday, I went for coffee again. This made the second Friday in a row that I actually got out. I’m not incarcerated; I’ve just fallen pray to a bad habit. The habit is called “working from home means staying at home.”

I work with individuals who are job searching and I repeatedly stress the importance of face to face networking and just "getting out there." The word networking gives most of us shivers, so let's talk about my coffee dates instead.

It had been nearly a year since I’ve seen my friend Colleen outside of cyberspace. She's a mom-trepreneur who owns Toe to Toe, a ballet studio, and has 4 school-aged boys, so her schedule is nuts.
There were a thousand barriers to my making this (or any other) date. Could I fit it in my schedule? This is a bit decadent for this economy if it’s “just for fun.” What would I have to move to get it in there? Could I get my kindergartener fed and on the bus on time? A coffee shop cup of coffee is 9 million dollars and I can buy several hundred pots at home for that. This means that I’ll have to shower and perhaps find my mascara, doesn’t it? Amazing how logical the Gremlins in our heads sound when we’re branching out of the cozy norm. Regardless, we nailed down a date and time and decided to meet halfway at a mom and pop coffee shop.


Appropriately named for my momentous branching out – our venue, “Tickled Pink” was adorable and inviting. It seemed to breed connection and unlikely pairings. It’s an antique and consignment shop in the middle and a sort of small business hub on the outskirts, complete with WiFi. I was greeted by a band of morning hecklers who were admitted regulars to the shop. They were hospitable and welcoming as I fumbled through my awkward ordering of “just a dumb old cuppa coffee, nothing fancy.” They all wondered just how on earth I’d never been in the shop if I’d lived in the community since it opened.

How, indeed? It sure seemed the place to be.

As I was stirring in some real Wisconsin cream, my friend arrived, ordered and checked out a “Princess Tea Party” flyer on the counter and led me to a cozy spot by a fake roaring fire.

We caught up on family lives and went on into chatting about businesses, hers and mine. Despite the economy, ballet is booming and she’s adding classes. We talked about my writing and coaching and recent opportunities I’d been exploring. I told her that since I’ve now revamped hundreds of resumes, I took my hand at my own. Not an easy task. She asked for a copy so she could take a look at my work and perhaps ask her husband if there was a need for some of my freelance where he works. I handed one over.

We talked about a mutual friend, Robin, who’s also a mom-trepreneur. She owns Zainey and Zoe, an online boutique that features girls’ accessories. Colleen wanted to contact her about an upcoming event for vendors at her studio, but she lost her number. I’m Robin’s business coach, so I knew it by heart.

Our short hour and twenty minutes was coming to a close. As we whipped on our coats, she folded up my resume and joked, “you don’t teach dance do you?”

“I taught Salsa and Meringue in college…”

“You’re kidding?! People keep asking for couples dancing. I’ll need to ponder this…” And we parted, vowing to make it less than a year until next time.

I had such fun on my coffee field trip that I repeated it again. This time with Robin and this time we each had a small girl in tow. We’re seasoned at this, so we were prepared to keep them entertained. Also, the week prior, I’d noticed the sign prominently hung above the coffee counter which read, “Unattended children will be served coffee and given a puppy.” Best to bring crayons.

We settled in next to the same faux fire as I had the week before and swept through the news of late. The girls colored while we sipped and chatted. I told Robin about a great deal I scored at the Clearwaters Salon around the corner yesterday ($5 cuts with an apprentice stylist who was wonderful!) While there, I learned about The Green Grocer, a new holistic food store that had a host of gluten free product. (Robin buys gluten free… always looking for a new local source.)

By chance, Colleen came in with her business manager and was able to connect with Robin personally about the vendor fair. The business manager would be handling it, and since being introduced, they can now put names to faces.

Our time was up and we gathered coats. Robin put Zaine’s adorable hat back on (her own creation, as we typically adorn our smidgens in her work when we take them out) and we headed for the door. The owner was there, holding it open and wishing us a good day. As we passed, she said, “What an ADORABLE beanie!” Robin, who can be squeamish about selling, was quick to casually respond, “Would you like to sell them in your store? I make them. Here’s my card.” Delightful.

Just like butter. One right after the next, connections flowed. I might never teach Salsa at the studio. Robin might not partake in the vendor fair. Perhaps nothing will come of Colleen’s husband peeking at my resume. But the seeds were planted. As soon as the message bottles are thrown in the ocean, things are more possible than they were yesterday.

Get out there.

Are you settled?

Interesting to see where I was in July amidst my immersion in much needed diversion. (The joys of a blog.) Since then, my husband and I have packed, unpacked, removed wallpaper from and painted multiple rooms, cleared and otherwise reorganized stuff left in the new house and moved the rest of our stuff to one home. For both of us, work life has changed and is still in flux.

I'm not sure that "settled" is the word I'd like to achieve. I'm not sure it's entirely possible (or desireable), to be honest. Every time someone askes that of me, "Are you settled in?" I can't muster an affirmative answer. "It will take a while, I think, but it's feeling homier." Is homier even a word?!

So I'm taking the old adage to heart. "Happiness is not a destination, but a manner of travel."

When the weather was exceedingly gorgeous, we took time to enjoy the pool and get the yard in better order. My youngest learned to ride a two-wheeler and we were all there to witness. When school started, my husband and I took advantage of our work schedules and hung out at the roadside as a family, teaching the dog not to eat the bus as it swallowed his girls.

We are not "unsettled," so there's that. It's as if we're floating somewhere near the surface instead of sinking to the bottom to rest with the other silt.

Not sure where this will take us next, but we're keeping open minds.

How about you... are you "settled?"

Daily (hourly?) Intimacy

Well, that got you reading! ;)

Still stuck on the Twilight saga.

I finished Eclipse and have ordered the boxed set of all 4 from Amazon for re-reading... (What a JUNKIE I've become...) and last night I started Midnight Sun (online) to tide me over til the Amazon box arrives. There’s so much in there to ponder. I find it keeps seeping into my reality.

I realized last night that I've been trying to emulate some of the honesty (and playfulness where honesty is concerned) in my own life that's evident in most of the relationships within Stephenie Meyer’s books. It's interesting to see the pleasant and sometimes unexpected responses I receive. Mostly, I’m intrigued by how easy it is to blurt what’s been hiding inside when I do it with the intention of honoring a relationship rather than proving a point.

Take marital intimacy as one example. You know, we may fantasize about makin' out like teenagers and having that intense longing for one another, but how often do we actually try to achieve that level of intimacy again? In the past, that fiery spark was often caused by the threat of getting caught or the fear of something yet to be experienced... stealing short snippets of time together and hoping to experience a degree of that rapture, if only from a simple touch on the face or embrace.

As parents, “grown-ups,” if you will, we're often reduced to the base... wham, bam we-have-15-mins-so-let's-get-on-with-it-and-get-to-sleep attitudes about intimacy. I've been wondering if "getting caught" doesn't have to mean by our parents anymore. What if we took those same fire-inducing risks while adding intimacy to the mundane? Where’s that new envelope to push? Preparing dinner... passing one another in the hallway while getting kids ready for bed... kissing each other goodbye in the morning... long stares at noontime on a Sunday while holding out so you're not the first to drop your gaze. What if we risked getting caught acting not-so-married and routine? (oooh, SCANDALOUS!)

How might that help the stress levels of couples currently in the marriage wringers? What would it mean for you both to really feel “I’m truly with you” when you’re near each other?

Where else do you seek more honest, intimacy in your life? Are you truly engaged and honest with your kids, your friends, your mom… would you like to be? If so, what’s holding you back?

Day's a Wastin'

I’ve been immersed in the Twilight saga. (Started Eclipse last night!) Reading them has reminded me that I was once dead set on becoming a writer for teens. The author has reached two distinct audiences (teens and say, the 25-45 crowd?) with such gripping passion that I’m in awe.

It’s evoked so much in me that I’m often just standing there, dumb, with my mouth and eyes wide open… wondering. I wonder about my life, my past, present and future and pictures vividly flash before me… memories I haven’t thought about for years. I’ve had so much “head down” time with kids and muttling through that I’m excited and fearful at once that I just might be waking back up.

I looked at my girls last night… My eldest was teaching her sister something on paper, her air-dried pool hair draped around her face in perfect waves. My youngest looked up and smiled at me all the way to the corners of her eyes… they were being kind to each other. I was struck…

“Wow, are you amazing and adorable!”

How is it that I often don’t see? I’d just been in a rage about them losing the “wet hair comb” (it’s a curly hair thing…) not fifteen minutes prior. It wasn’t about them. It was about nothing being where it should (including me)… it was about too much change… it was about overwhelm. They were so forgiving. What kind of mess am I these days, I wondered? Such a mess that I can’t see what IS.

This is what I call an “ah ha” moment. I’m noticing (again!) just how very simple it is to slip out of the present and let the beauty in my life slip by without my noticing. It’s like waking up and finding that it’s noon on a gorgeous day.

Time to wake now. Day’s a wasting.

Perspective in The Dead Zone

I'm finding it rather funny (not so much "hilarious" funny) that my life holds many parallels to a story about a vampire and a girl. Although I've not been in a relationship with a nocturnal creature who drinks blood, I've had plenty of situations suck the "life" or "passion" straight out of me. (And many which have resulted in quite the opposite as well... some of them the very same situation at a new stage.)

I've been engrossed in the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. (Thus, not so much blog writing of late.) I've found it funny to learn how many women my age are also gripping their 500pg volumes and not putting them down except to shower (perhaps.) Since I'm of the age where many passions are by the wayside while the kids, the hubby, the job, the house, the dog... all need cleaning, feeding, tending and attending, it doesn't really surprise me that this book series has turned into an obsession in the hands of my peers.

I've only read the first book and it's awakened in me parts that have been slowly dying. Over the years, (and most certainly the last one) senses have been dulled through pain and necessity.

While reading Bella's descriptions of Forks, WA, a town soaked in rain nearly 24/7, I'm reminded of how perspective plays a role in everything. When I was 16, I was taken (dragged is more appropriate) to Canada to go fishing. Dream vacation for a teenage girl, no? Lake of the Woods Ontario is beautiful, but not for a 16 year old girl who would rather die that hook a minnow through the eyes. I chose to hang on the doc reading and writing (and sulking a bit) until they'd fetch me for shore lunch. After lunch they would drop me back on the dock to sunbathe or, if it was nice, we'd waterski.

After a day or two, my family noticed my increasing enthusiasm about our choice in vacation spots. Bugs, worms, minnows, cold water and all, I was happy. There was another amenity at our "resort." He was a curly haired, sky blue-eyed 17 yr old who carried gas cans and cleaned fish (and gave me crap for my "participation" in the family vacation.)

Later that summer, my folks announced that they were going to go back north (the 12+ hours) for a little fishing trip. "Great! Can I go?" actually escaped my lips.

It poured (POURED) for the entire 4 days we were there. I smiled the whole way home.

Perspective.

I find that in my current "dead zone" moments that I've held a very "head down and into the wind" posture. I haven't been raising my eyes to see the details or the beauty therein. I haven't stopped enough to straighten my body and inhale what's available in the moment.

I've chosen to stop. To look. To drink in the details. So there's more life now. I can feel it already.

What perspectives are you missing? What's up? What passions are to be found when you drink in some life around you?

Gratitude and Funny #2

So the funny...

Both of my girls have now asked if they had to "peck" out of my body to be born.

I'm intensely grateful that the answer is "NO."

Also grateful that the questions haven't gone too much further... yet.

How about you? For what are you grateful today?

Gratitude and a Funny #1

Yesterday, I started posting "gratitude" on Facebook. I thought the reponse was great! My goal is to post things I'm grateful for each day along with something humorous. I hope you'll play along or at least enjoy!

Sesame Street - given that in two days we will no longer have TV at my house... I'm savoring it.

Cupcakes - I get to make these with Vivian today for "end of school" and "end of sitter" celebrations.

Hot coffee... ahhh.

Lip liner.

Sunshine on my shoulders (not yet today, but it may be in the cards!)

So... the funny:

Last week I casually used the word "predicament" while talking to my 4 year old. She asked what it meant. I defined it for her.

She then says, "So like when there are 3 or 4 choices of special treat and they're all good... that's a predicament, right?"

And she went on 4 or 5 other examples... all totally correct. Just cracked me up. We all have predicaments, don't we??

So... what are YOU grateful for today? Please comment.

Is it a game with a stick, or a state of being...

Limbo.

This is a prevalent theme for many of my friends and I. Stuck between hither and yon. (I've tried google maps... not much help in finding my way on this one.)

Selling homes, waiting for economic waters to warm a bit, waiting to hear on jobs, filling dressers with half our summer clothes and keeping out 1/2 the winter... we're in Dr. Seuss' "waiting place."

A lot of serious stuff going on everywhere. The news is rather petrifying. I'm looking forward to the 12th when we'll have NO TV. (We're a strange family that chooses no cable and a converter box is worthless on snowy reception.)

I have a friend who advises others to skip right to page 5 of the newspaper because that's where they hide all the good news. It got me thinking. I've had a lot of "how low can you go" moments of late and I'm wondering where my page 5 has gone? What would it look like?

My page 5 would have to be filled with humor, reminders about flexibility, patience and reasons for gratitude. Each day, I've committed to posting a few notes of gratitude and finding something funny to share. I hope you'll join me in the comments section.

It may be a stretch, but that's what has to be done to get out from under this stick... standing tall on the other side.

How low can YOU go? (And remember, no ducking under... that's cheating. Chin and nose under that bar!) ;)

Valuing Your Summer Schedule

"A schedule defends from chaos and whim.
It is a net for catching days...
A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order --
willed, faked, and so brought into being.
~Annie Dillard

School ends, camps begin, vacations ensue, new sitters start, visitors arrive… and before you know it, it’s Labor Day. Where’d the summer go?

I have a one hour FREE telecourse designed to help moms transition from one “season” to the next. Summer is certainly a season of change. It’s not too late to map out what you’d like your “Summer 2009” essay to look like!

Wednesday, June 17th, 8-9pm CT.
Write to Julie@julzoflife.com or call 262-374-3744 to register.

If you can't play this time, one on one coaching is available as well. Give me a call for details.

Oh Groan!

We have a large (LARGE!) German Shepherd puppy named Sully. He's awesome.

Here in the "late night" we hang out in our office and Sully spreads out on the wood floor at our feet.

It doesn't take long before we hear a loud, bellowing groan from him. We laugh. It never fails. The groan just provokes such joy, ridiculousness and, well, envy.

I so wish that, in the serious moments, I could just let out a long, loud groan. It's as if he's saying, "Are you SERIOUS?! We're going BACK to work? Why can't we just play BALL???"

Dogs are smart. We need to listen more.

Whhere would you like to let out a groan? What would it say in your life?

ABBA Commute

I've often lamented not having a true "commute" to and from work. (Long ago, I exchanged my 45-90 minute commute for a staircase when I chose to work from home.) There is something to be said for the ramping up/ramping down time a commute affords. There's a mindset switch that's pretty valuable.

I had a birthday recently. About 6 months ago, all I asked for was ABBA's Greatest Hits. Then, a few weeks before my birthday, we rented Mama Mia. It was way better than anticipated. Seriously, how many greatest hits albums can retroactively fit into a musical and make sense? I had to have it now. So, my daughters (via their dear Daddy) delivered.

Each night, whenever possible, we get all "Dancing Queen" and "SOS" in the living room. I find it hilarious that the kids know many of the words (and make up their own in handy places.)

Their favorite is the refrain, "having the time of your life... Ooooooh!" We spin and wave our arms. It's great fun. Very cathartic.

I think I've found my new commute home. Instead of an ignition, it has a PLAY button.

Now, to find an appropriate commute TO work...

What's your igintion? What brings you to and from a work mindset?

Comment... I want to know!

Ketchup, Ketchup... We Made A Ketchup!

So January and February are a smidge blurry to me. I started working with a large client contract in January and I've been readjusting nearly every slice of my life to accommodate. We get creative and sometimes throw out all the "rules" to accommodate certain challenges, don't we?

I've had quite a few days that seem not to end, where I emerge from my office for mealtime and then head back in. There were several weeks at a time in the first two months when I did not leave the house at all. Rule #1 - extroverts need to get out.

Mealtime is somewhat sacred in our house in that we try to eat together every night. I'm sure I wasn't much fun at all to eat with in January. I would hold up my "talk to the" hand and remind the family that I was coming down from a turbo-multitasking high and that I needed "a moment" that might last the whole meal. Rule #2 had been tossed by the wayside - a commute is often necessary even when working from home. (Even if the "commute" looks more like a change of clothes than location.)

So much of what I've been dealing with can tend to be heavy. I began talking gibberish at dinner the other day for lack of real words. We all laughed so hard it knocked the nonsense back into me. I'd lost rule #3, humor is vital.

I had to say "whoa" this last week and climb back into a few of my old slices of life. The people slice has taken a beating. The exercise slice is not far behind. The kid slice... both the kids I brought into the world and the kid in me… has been neglected.

So, we took a walk to the park on a sunny day. I played. I actually played. No discipline, no direction, no "stop it!" Just played and watched. Everyone behaved.

More than that - we connected. As I swung from the monkey bars, my daughters were on the swings. I’d never done this as a kid, but when two swings are going in unison to and fro… they chant, “Ketchup, ketchup! We made a ketchup!” (When they’re all a mess, it’s “mustard.”)

They delight in the connection…being together again, in unison. I couldn’t help but feel right with the world again. Rather than tell them it was time to go, I offered up a pre-dinner cookie at home. We found a stone that knew the way home and we took turns kicking it til we made it there. (Stones are pretty clever these days, remember that if you’re ever lost.)

So, where in your life are you mustard? Where would you like some ketchup?

Let me know. I’ll be at the park.

The Fail Safe

A couple weeks ago I tried this new craze called Zumba. It's Spanish slang for "move very fast and have fun." They're not joking. It's a hoot.

I used to teach Latin dance in college. Zumba is akin to an hour with a 15 piece brass marimba band and zero inhibitions. Loved it. I went all out.

This was after spending three straight weeks at my PC, first with the hellish preparation for an IRS audit (more on that another day) and then ramping up with a new project helping folks who've recently been laid off. Just a tad of stress necessarily veiled in a certain degree of calm.

Two days after my Zumba escapade, my back went out. My not-so-exercised muscles tightening around my already gnarled-from-stress muscles causing my SI joints to temporarily stop supporting my weight.

I forgot one of my own rules. In times of extreme stress, the mind may keep going, but the body will eventually say, "whoa." The chiropractor tried to put Humpty back together again. It didn't work so well. "You're a knotted mess. You need massage."

Another great chiropractic quote... if you ignore your stress long enough it turns into a pain in the neck... ignore that long enough and you'll have a large pain in the butt. Ignore that and you'll soon be immobile.

No joke.

After three days of extreme pain, alternating between icing/moist heating, a very great (albeit painful) massage and lots of Quasi Moto pacing, I started to laugh at myself. This is not a design flaw, you dork! It's a fail safe.

If you don't take care of yourself, things will begin to fail. If you ignore the failures, you will have pain. If you ignore the pain, you will have more pain in more inconvenient places. If you ignore the big pain, you'll get taken out at the knees until you have little choice but to care for yourself.

See, fail safe.

I share this with you because it would have been far easier for me to listen and make some changes at "things beginning to fail" stage. That would have taken a keen sense of knowing my body AND truly believing I deserve the care in the moment. Although I knew my body well enough, I chose to wait until a "better time" to take care of myself. Each time became "not that bad" until my body called it quits.

Where is your body failing you? Are you listening to it? What habit could you change today to help your body get back to health?

Do you have a stress valve? How do you release it? How often is "enough" for releasing the stress in your life?

p.s. I asked the chiropractor if Zumba was what killed me. It wasn't. The truth, I believe it may have saved me. (It's my valve!)
Everybody, everybody do the Cha Cha!

Find Your Bell

On Christmas Eve, our family received a new member. He’s now my 80 lb, furry German Shepherd son named Sully. He’s incredibly docile (unless you attempt to enter the yard or have the audacity to be in his line of sight while he’s inside his fence… then he appears to want you for lunch.) He’s soft and playful and loving.

He’s also very smart.

He rings a bell with his nose to indicate that he needs to go out. Most of the time, he rings the bell not because he needs to eliminate waste… he just needs relief.

He’ll ring it during the flurry of getting a meal to the table. He’ll ring it when he’s had enough “child-in-the-face” time. He’ll ring it when someone is crying and licking their face isn’t effective. He'll ring it when someone is being disciplined at high decibels. He’ll ring it if no one will play and he needs to run off some energy (he’s only 7 months, so that’s like a 3 ½ year old human kid.)

I need a bell. A bell I can ring when I need a moment.

I’m fairly certain I’d rather not sit on a snow-covered porch in -8 wind chill with my nose in the air, but a bell to ring and a place to retreat to would be divine.

I ask you, in 2009, will you make as space for yourself to go when you’re having a “bell moment?”

What place helps you refocus? What does it look like? Where is it located? How long would you stay? What permission do you need to let yourself be refreshed there if only for a moment? What’s scary about taking a moment for just you?

If you want to brainstorm your bell ideas and get solid accountability to make a new habit in service of your healthy spirit, contact me at Julie@julzoflife.com.

We’ll make it happen.

Wash to the Toes

I mentioned to a friend that today was "my day" to shower.

It's not like I'm truly limited on my bathtime... it just doesn't happen every day in the winter. For one, I air dry my hair, and let's face it, when it's 8 degrees and the windchill is 8 below, who wants a wet head?

Secondly, I have a million other more important things to do, right? Someone's yelling "mom!" or "honey!" and needs to know the location of a favorite sock or a library book.

Another friend described a mom shower as one that depends upon shampooing and a strong faith in gravity. By the time the lather reaches your toes, it's gotten it all, right? Get in, get out, get back on task.

Today I took a real shower. I washed, I exfoliated, I used that puffy scrubby thing, the pumice stone and even the pink star nail brush that I insist my kids use every shower. I washed to the toes, even pushing cuticles.

My feet feel wonderful (even while cloaked in wool socks). I smell good, fabulous even.

While I'm no Pig Pen, my self-care habits could sure use a bit of amping up this season. It's that whole airplane oxygen mask theory. You first, then secure the mask on others. That way, nobody collapses.

What have you treated yourself to lately? What would you include in your "cleanse" for 2009? What needs washing away? What fragrance do you choose for you life? Is it calming or envigorating?

Happy New Year, Treasure Hunters!

I'm actively seeking new treasure in 2009.

What does that mean??

I'm looking for the shiny stuff of life amongsth the rubble. Let's face it, there was a lot of rubble in 2008. (Many blessings, to be sure, but a LOT of rubble.)

Last year this time I was just starting The Chest. One of my initial posts in 2008 was about naming the year. "Julz on Fire" was 2009. Whew, be careful what you wish for! There were parts of me on fire that were never meant to be, I tell ya.

I was laughing with some colleagues about what to name 2009. Given my "exciting" year, they suggested "The Year of the Cleanse," but we settled on "The Year of the Colonic." I have been using the term "de-crap" in several facets of my life and the lives of others (drawers, closets, the pantry, the fridge, my schedule, a contact list). Anyway, however crude, it seemed appropriate.

Gently cleanse (dare I say, "flush?") and freshen up all the areas of my life so they may begin anew.

(Doesn't sound so bad put that way, does it?)

What do YOU want for 2009?

(Oh... I want one more thing! I want some treasure hunters! I know you're out there. Say it loudly, say it proudly! Click the button on the upper right corner of the sidebar and become a follower of The Chest!)