All the best creations are.
I found this while cleaning up my inbox; unsubscribing from email after email (good fucking gawwwwwd). I’d forgotten that I had a Patreon (thing #49827987 that I started and didn’t finish). This was one of the posts. From 2015. Hit a bit close to home today. And also….from so very far away. I have grown a lot; I am still the same.
I’m writing Isabella’s Cowgrrl Up book and she’s so strong. So powerful. Probably one of the most assured, confident, successful women I’ve tackled. She’s been there, done that, bought the store that makes…
“Life isn’t made of choices,” said Holland. “It’s made of trades. Some are good, some are bad, but they all have a cost.” V. E. Schwab, A Conjuring of Light
Whether a tweet, a FB post, or a Reddit meme, we are a species founded in communication. We spread information not through our senses, but via articles, news reports, and, in this latest iteration, a strange thing we’ve come to call “social” “media.” By definition, crowd-centric news.
We’ve always been storytellers, sharing news, history, and culture to one another via campfire, then town hall, and now…
it is THE strategy
“Some”one made a smarmy PSA on FB today letting us all know that Hope Is Not A Strategy. They went on to say that asking “What’s the worst that could happen?” gets people killed.
Come on, man.
I mean, I’m all for using words as weapons, as catalysts, as sniper guns aimed at certain situations to force change, but this one really caught me.
Perhaps because they are my life mottos.
He took direct aim at the monikers that are my creeds; one a gift from the boys’ dad (ohgoodness, I cannot COUNT the number of…
I watched amazing displays of bravery play out in my backyard this morning.
A squirrel raced up a tree branch, trusting it to hold her.
A sparrow darted through the gaps of trees, trusting the wind to lift her.
A butterfly flitted from flower to flower, seeing it all from a far different view than when she was a caterpillar the week before, and a mass of goo only yesterday.
A spider skydived off a balcony railing, trusting butt-thread and a teeny breeze to keep her from plummeting to the earth.
There’s a bible verse about this very thing; something…
I spent a lifetime trying to impress people.
For all that I’ve said that I don’t care what people think, that’s a lie. I care very much.
Today I realized I’ve spent a lifetime trying to impress people who didn’t care. …by stealing time away from the people who DO care — my kids. I impress the hell out of them; always have. They loved when I was an author, but I was too busy facing the wrong direction — looking for validation and vindication from “experts.” I’ve impressed them (and generated a shitton of trauma) by being a single…
….and it was the best thing that ever happened to me.
It’s not the money I miss, but the years I spent being angry.
Angry at myself.
Angry at my decisions.
Angry at my business partner.
Angry at the world.
Angry at myself.
I’d recently paid off all my debt, had nearly no monthly expenses, and was streamlining my life. I had one ghostwriting client who paid like clockwork, an apartment on a lake, and was figuring out single motherhood; truly…a life built for a princess.
Then I let ego start driving the bus. I got caught up in doing…
Money is a trigger word. Most people have a strong belief about it. I did. I grew up Catholic; Sunday sermons were “Money is the root of all evil.” Struggle was where it was at. My dad taught me if I didn’t have cash I couldn’t have it. I’ve had six-figure years and barely five-figure years. I’ve chased easy money and filed bankruptcy. I’ve had no debt and been drowning in it. My profession is one where it’s a badge of honor to be a “Starving Artist.” Money “ruins” the craft.
It’s taken me untold hours to excavate my beliefs…
Holy Christ I am all the feels.
I’m not sure it’s the relief of 45 coming to a close, or the glass ceiling shattering, or the apres book release hangover, or my “vacation” weekend of #allthetrauma, but wow did all my emotions show up ready to party this morning!
I should really get better at scheduling the crisises (crisii?) of my life.
Nonetheless, the day is unfolding with a trillion creations begging for life. A novel idea about a woman battling her different selves depending on which mirror she steps into, an article about sorry v. aftercare, an article about…
I have this habit of immediately turning my family and friends’ passions into strategies for million-dollar businesses. It’s what I do; I’m a legacy builder. I’ve done it my whole life, starting with my mom. I made her so successful one year for Christmas she spent the whole thing in an anxiety-filled haze, crying while sitting at her sewing machine until 2am every night to get all the orders done.
It was a disaster.
She’s asked me not to “help” anymore.
Same, my dad’s cattle waterer company (are you tired of breaking ice in water troughs every winter?) Same, my…
I’m not sure I’ve had a trigger to write quite like the current cover of Time.
See, I disagree. Vehemently.
2020 was my Best Year Ever.
2020 was the year I got my life back.
2020 was the year my kids got their mom back.
2020 was the year I reclaimed ME.
2020 was the year I realized what matters, who matters, and who could fuck right the fuck off.
2020 was the year I learned to meditate — REALLY meditate.
2020 was the year I got gifted glorious staycations (that turned into meditation retreats).
2020 was the year I learned to trust. (Because 2020 was the…