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!)