They say it’s all about the journey. The sometimes maddening, confusing, frightening, interesting journey that moves you from Point A to Point B in your life.

I hope you’re wearing comfortable shoes.

Just some thoughts as you make your way.

Avoid the comparisons

One of the toughest parts of your journey may be seeing others pull ahead of you. It happens. Instead of making it a negative– as in I’m behind and not keeping up, look at it from a different angle. What can you learn from the forward motion the other person has made? What can you replicate in your own life that may help you? Instead of considering this person competition, maybe what you’ve really done is identify a person who can help you along the way.

Find resources along the way

Speaking of resources, your journey is about new things and you will need some new tools. Things, people, information will be falling onto your path as you travel. Are you going to step over the mound of potential helpfulness because you’ve got places to go or are you going to spend time learning all you can? Take the time you need to absorb what these new resources offer. If you do, you’ll be more prepared as you travel.

Consider your original map as more of a suggestion

Because…really? I know you think you’ve got it all worked out…See, I’ll show you, you say. Look, the most efficient way to get from here to here is this straight line, you tell me as you vigorously point, point, point to your map. Easy, cobra. Great idea, in theory, but chances are, life may have a different route for you full of detours, possible road closures and unexpected pee pee breaks. The world is full of surprises and what you may consider deterrents or possibly setbacks are more accurately described as course corrections that will reveal all in due time.

You will always be fraught with forward motion whether you can sense it or not.

Gauge your progress on how far you’ve come—–not how far you have to go

We are an impatient people tapping our toe while we multi task Scrabble and texting on our iPhones, managing our processes and ordering a triple venti latte. STUFF TO DO! Things never seem to happen fast enough for us.

That’s really what it’s all about. Things rarely happen at the speed we wish—which would involve us cracking a few G’s, our faces pushed back from the pressure, a barf bag in our hand.

Unpleasant.

Throw a look over your shoulder once in a while and take a look at how much ground you’ve already covered. I understand that may not be exactly where you want to be at this moment but LOOK! You have some serious momentum here! Alright, enough of that. Now, eyes forward. No resting on laurels. That was just designed to give you a little boost as you bootstrap it and keep on.

By the way, great job.

And building that bridge? I think the bridge already exists. Perhaps your job is to put one foot in front of the other without looking down, without running back from whence you came or without jumping over the side.

You’re almost there. I wonder what you’ll discover today…

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Leave me a comment–I’d love to know your thoughts!

Newness. Walking into a cold room. Change. Proving yourself to new people. These things will never go away. How do you boost your self confidence in new situations when you may not know the lay of the land or the people that inhabit it? How to you convince yourself that you are comfortable, at ease and happy to be wading waist deep in these unknown waters?

Whenever my mom dropped me off at a new school for the first time, she would offer me this advice—Look people in the eye and smile pretty.

This may have to be adapted if you’re a guy. Sorry, I don’t know what she’d tell my brothers.

Bunko, con, flim flam, gaffle, grift, hustle, scam, scheme, swindle, bamboozle—oh yea, that’s what I’m talking.

There’s one person we have to fool. And it’s you.

Here we go. I’m sorry but the reason we have to fool you is because you won’t listen to reason. Look, I could remind you that you are capable, equipped to deal with all new situations. You with your scared bunny face. We obviously have to take a different route with you.

We’re going to have to pull a short con on you.

No need to whip out the big tricks—this doesn’t require the energies of a hardcore long con. This is the short con—and you will play all roles—you are the grifter and the mark. (It’s your own fault) Let the manipulation begin!

I have to say, I’ve seen your work and I’m impressed. It’s amazing–the long and short cons you’ve pulled. I am amazed by all you’ve convinced your poor mark to believe. I’m sure of your skill, seeing some of the cleverness — famous hustles like: “Now They Know I’m an Imposter”, “All My Success Has Been an Accident” and “I Peaked Early…It’s Downhill From Here”. It always amazes me what your mark will buy even though in their gut they know they are being sold a bill of goods and that the con flies in the face of logic.

The mark of a good con is playing your role consistently and with conviction. Here are some famous short cons for making your mark feel like they are on top of it and they can accomplish anything in any new situation.

Con #1

Convince the mark to act the way they want to feel. This is a great way to ingratiate yourself with the mark and get them to believe that you can help them in their new situation. And, it always works! Persuade the mark to create in their mind how they would ideally like to feel/be/be seen in their new situation. Get them to identify 3 descriptions—maybe it would be: to feel talented, self confident and comfortable in this new situation. Convince the mark to begin acting as if they were talented, self confident and comfortable—the opposite of how they actually feel. They will fight you. It will sound too simple.

Remind them that they can trust you and to just give it a try. Tell them to act confidently. Act comfortable. Act as if they understand they are talented. Convince the mark that once they start acting this way—even if it feels like a lie–people will begin responding to them in like and they will in turn pick up on that—and the circle is complete. Mirrors facing mirrors, reflecting infinitely.

Con #2

Posing as a wealthy Nigerian businessman, remind the mark of what their best friend would tell them at that moment of starting something new. This scam is known as the Best Friend Pep Talk. You will be playing on the fact that the mark knows their best friend so well that, even when absent, they know what their best friend would tell them—this seems to be a voice that is always present in the mark’s head. If your mark is playing it hard, you may have to bring in said shill and actually get the best friend on the phone. Best part of this con: The Best Friend Pep Talk works whether you’ve got the best friend on the line or not.

Con #3

Convince the mark that items of clothing hold special powers, making difficult situations easier. That these powers are then attributed to the wearer—otherwise known as the Dress the Part con. Share your “special secrets” surrounding the power of wearing your favorite color or sharpest outfit. Push the fact that lucky underwear is not a myth. Let them in on the strength of a new lipstick.

Con #4

Tell the mark you are a Chinese art student and con them into creating an exterior of confidence as they enter the new and possibly uncomfortable situation, even if it feels like a flimsy façade to them, ie: tell them to make strong eye contact, use their friendly voice and try smiling. Tell the mark that you’ve heard and even seen for yourself that people respond positively to these actions. The important thing is to convince the mark that what they put out is reflected back and that we are all mirrors of those around us.

Works great in combination with Con #1, Act the Way You Want to Feel.

Con #5

Feed the mark information surrounding the sometimes frightening nature of new situations. Pepper your con with the It’s Normal to feel Nervous and Every New Situation is a Challenge/Lesson scams –gain their confidence through understanding. Remind the mark that they rock for showing up and for doing everything they did to get them to this point. Don’t worry about sounding corny. Your mark is vulnerable. They want to believe. Think of it as a kindness.

The beauty? These cons work powerfully together—mix and match—and craft the perfect short con for making that mark feel like they can conquer the world.

It will be easier than you think. I know a clean mark when I see one.

Leave me a comment–I’d love to know your thoughts!

I glanced through Facebook this morning and it appears that all of my friends are curing cancer, building monuments and teaching children to read. Oh.

And that doesn’t make me feel so good…about me.

By the way, what is that smell? Oh, its me…doing nothing right.

It stinks.

I don’t think this post is about feeling good and solving problems. *spoiler alert* it really is!  This is about feeling unsure and giving that feeling all the permission required to hog tie you to the moment when you can do nothing right, you can forge no new paths, every word out of your mouth is trite and you are doing nothing important with your life.

I think I might put all my ugly on the table so that we can poke at it a bit.

But *yea* for my friends and all of their accomplishments. *balloon as all of its air escapes, making a pathetic squeaky noise…*

Being Afraid of the Dark

New projects represent uncharted territory, forcing us to speak in languages in which we are not fluent and planting the possibility in our heads that we may be embarrassed. The thing we always seem to forget is that all eyes are not upon us. You are finding yourself in this new situation for a reason—you are meant to be here and you are meant to learn. You might as well embrace it.

And…I hate to be the one to say it but..control freak much? Relax. Things will be revealed—think about that for a minute. You’re going to get it—you always have in the past. Do you really think your cognitive powers are suddenly going to fail right when you need them most? Please get real. If you were watching someone else react this way you would laugh at them.

I have a few friends who are deathly afraid of bees—I bet we all do. They can see a bee 8 feet away and they begin their bee dance—arms flailing over their heads, heads shaking wildly as if the bee is somehow in their hair and brought its friends, and—my favorite part, the running in place, spinning in a circle.

She’s a maniac, maaaaniac on the floor…

Picture that in your head.

The bee is nowhere near them. I know they feel they can’t help it—but this is what happens to us when fear takes over. We create danger where there is none, we begin defending our self when there is no enemy and people looking on probably wonder “What the hell is happening with crazy pants over there?”.

But I can’t!!!

Let me give you a personal example—something that has me doing my own emotional “bee dance”. A lot of my tied up in knot-ness revolves around writing. In this particular example, I’m afraid that I’m about to set back civil rights by about 60 years with this article I’m trying to write—and set civil rights back not because I want to but because I’m wandering in the woods on this one—I’ve never written an article like this before…but what’s a post, you say…oh shut up, I say…that I’m sure I’ll say all the wrong things and miss all the important points, causing ever reader to mentally turn off and stop reading about people and things that are so extremely important—events that are so important that they continue to resonate like an enormous bell that will never stop ringing.

This fear has become a giant pile of boulders—boulders of hesitation and doubt– that I am trying to climb over but not making much progress, because they are also greased. This fear is keeping me from writing the article. I have everything I need to write: thorough research, interviews, great quotes. I want to do it—it was my idea. Claw, claw, slide down greasy rocks.

Fear will test how much you love something.

Practice Active Listening…With Yourself

One of the things that helped me get over my foot stamping *I can’t* tantrum was to take a step outside of what I was feeling. Pretend…pretend…pretend…and try looking at these problems as if they belong to someone else. Take a side step away from your personal circle of confusion and imagine someone else is wrassling with your demons. What advice would you offer a friend who is going through this kind of fun? Sometimes that voice is more rational.

It might sound more like this:

Why don’t you take that energy and bootstrap it for a minute. If you can accidently bring down the civil rights movement with one article, imagine what you could do if you harnessed your powers for good. No one said doing something for the first time was going to be easy. Let the respect you have for these actions you’re describing come through in your writing. Just try. So what if it’s hard. Why should that even matter in the scheme of things. Just keep moving forward. And shut up, you big baby. Geez.

It usually falls apart at the end like that and I resort to name calling. Since this voice can still be biting, I really have to bring in the big guns. I imagine what my friend Melissa would tell me. She’s always tough but fair. Of course, I could just call her but I am a believer in self soothing whenever possible.

Here’s what she’d tell me:

Are you kidding me? You’re not looking at all these things you are doing—while you are sitting around not curing cancer. I think you are doing exactly what you’re supposed to be doing. You’re investigating new things with your writing. Look, you’re building something. Building is hard work. But you do it for a reason and the reason is you love to write. You are not doing nothing. You’re just having a tough day. shutupyoubigbabygeez.   Oops, that last part was me again…

Everyone You’ve Ever Met Is Not Peering Over Your Shoulder

When I do something new, I feel self conscious. When I write something that feels very personal—which is bound to make feel like I am wearing a very itchy sweater on a hot day—I have a large group of unseen people reading over my shoulder. Their voices and opinions interfere and I’m just now learning how to banish them. They become my unwelcome editors—although I’m the one who issued their unwitting invitation.

Irony.

The voice you hear is yours. This whip, well, that belongs to you, too. Boulder greaser? Yep.

Decide to approach it differently. All of those monkeys that escaped…you’re smarter than they are.

I would love to hear your thoughts—do leave a comment!

Today you are you, that is truer than true.

Dr. Suess

I have never lost the understanding I had as a 2 year old little girl that mommy and daddy would always love me no matter what…I carry it with me, whether I’m aware of it or not. It grants me freedoms, real or imagined, as I walk into new situations and meet new people. I realize that I’m lucky in that regard because not everyone has had that level of acceptance from the people who matter most—I recognize that. And there have been many times when I have pushed its limits. If I wasn’t breaking the rules I somehow had the look about me that I was. Perhaps this is always the fate of the eldest child…

We all have people in our lives who have given us the permission to be ourselves. And I now talking about those people outside of our families—people who have no predetermined investment in each of us becoming the best version of ourselves. Why do some people make more of an impact than others?

I say *bless you* when strangers sneeze. Just under my breath. I might interrupt myself if I’m talking.

I’m compelled to tuck in people’s collar tags when they’re poking out—whether I know them or not.

I correct people’s grammar in my head without realizing it. Like right now…I’m probably changing your adjective into an adverb. Just doing my part.

I feel guilty if I don’t give the homeless guy a dollar—even if he’s really drunk.

These aren’t big things. They are very little things that begin to construct the fabric of who I am. Thread by thread, these behaviors weave together picking up thicker, stronger threads more significant colors as they go, to create a recognizable pattern, solid edges that won’t fray. The little things (and some of the big things) that I do were not taught to me by my family but they are remnants of my interactions with people throughout the years–the teachers that noticed, the friends that modeled behavior for me to follow…or to avoid. All those ripples that hit my shore–they made a difference– regardless if the one throwing the rock from shore ever witnessed it or not.

Those people exist for each of us. They had a hand making us who we’ve become through their influence, their kindness, their interest in us. Sometimes our contact with these people felt random and is short lived—but that doesn’t lessen the impact they may have in our lives. Other times, their influence can be far more deliberate and meaningful, lasting for decades.

How did these people mind map me into the unusual piece of science fiction that I am today? When we think of the influential people in our lives, do we have similar themes?

These influencers probably had no idea of how they would change us. They might even be shocked to hear that they could affect that kind of change. You would shake your head in disbelief that they could miss such an important component of who they are. It’s amazing that they could miss that.

Just like you might do if someone delivered the message to you, of how your actions, your words, your example has changed their life. Think about it. Every day. You can be a powerful tool or a dangerous weapon—and you get to pick.

I would love to hear your thoughts—do leave a comment!

Mississippi is the only place where a man can call me *little lady* and I won’t give him the stink eye. It took awhile though.

When I was 24, and could more easily be considered a little lady…as opposed to the ma’am I’ve become…I moved from St. Paul, Minnesota to Hattiesburg, Mississippi—a small town that was so far south it might as well been in the water. I went from being a baker at a trendy spot (because that is what one does with a double major in French and International Studies…) to working in advertising sales at a new TV station in this tiny, little town…and what did I know about that?

Note: when you’re a baker, you are always greeted with joy—when you’re selling advertising, you are more commonly eyed with suspicion and occasionally hidden from.

And because I was a stranger to all I met in this Southern town, and since they hadn’t known my family for 150 years, my clients didn’t always learn my name. Many times, I was greeted with “Now, there’s that red haired Yankee girl again.” Smacks a little of *red haired step child*, don’t you think? That’s what some people called me. It wasn’t meant as a dig. But it identified that I was outside of the group, minus an unrecognizable pedigree–I was not one of them and they all knew it. And some of them were still a little pissed about the war (yes, that one)…in case I was wondering.

Everything was so unfamiliar. This chunk of change I had just bitten off felt overwhelming. I was very aware of how I didn’t fit in—and I tried to convince myself that their acceptance wasn’t important. But it was. I wanted people to get me. I wanted their kindness to be generated by more than gentile politeness.

I didn’t know how to define myself in this new place, in this new situation where I was working for the MAN—me! My Minnesota friends were actually horrified by my *selling out*… Me–who had volunteered at the co-op.

Me.

Who was I now?

Not even my own language was familiar in this new place. When these people that I was suddenly surrounded with began to talk, it just sounded like someone was playing a banjo. Dang didang dang dang…that’s all my unaccustomed ears heard. I felt like an Elocution Coach, with my Midwestern lack of accent and my failure to drop the occasional g.

Hazyamamanem?

That is a question in Mississippi. The proper response is not, “Bless you”. It is not an American Indian tribe or the name of a river. The Hazyamamanem is about to swell past its banks! Get the sandbags!

Hazyamamanem is actually a test for anyone who hasn’t picked up the most southern of Southern accents…yes, it is reserved for the Yankees. Translated, it’s “How’s your mama and them?” But it is said as one big word and the response should somehow incorporate a Youghtahavta—as in “Good, good. Youghtahavta come for a visit.”

Now, I am not making fun. I am merely pointing out the confusion I was experiencing from the spoken word…something that I’d considered myself fluent in for years—English and French at that stage of my life—but it had all just turned into…banjos. Twangity, twang, twang, twang.

Who was I in this new place, doing nothing that seemed familiar?

Then one day it happened. It took a long time— almost a year. And please know that up to that point I had fought hard against the assimilation that daily knocked on my door and said, “Aw, come on, just say it.” I would grit my teeth and tighten my lips, like an ornery child refusing to eat the last spoonful of peas. “Just say it once…little lady. Try it,” it would coax, just like that snake from the Jungle Book.

One day I forgot myself, I was chatting with new friends, enjoying a lovely day and it happened.

I said “ya’ll”.

It was a no turning back moment. “Ya’ll” is the gateway.

I knew that once “ya’ll” had infiltrated my speech, it would be no time at all before I would be “fixin’ to”. God only knew how much longer I had before I would “youghtahavta”…and forget about those errant g’s.

I gulped and understood. The biggest part of belonging is acceptance. Not just you and not just them.

Moving to Mississippi was a valuable lesson in learning how to appreciate the things I didn’t immediately understand. Living there became a language I began to understand even if it wasn’t my native tongue. I’ve developed affection for this place I have since visited at least twice a year, ever since. Mississippi is your crazy uncle, your sweet grandma, your charming spinster aunt, your growling junkyard dog on a chain, your hell fire and brimstone preacher on a Sunday and, often times, the last thing you expect.

leverage (le*vrij): a strategic advantage; the power to act effectively

If you are starting at *hard*, you are probably starting at the wrong place.

One upsmanship. Upper hand.

Yea, I don’t mean that.

Leverage is identifying your natural abilities—your passions, your talents. Identifying the things that make you lean in and giving them the credit they are due. Sometimes, we don’t embrace our passion—we try to replace it with things that feel more practical or more profitable. We treat our passion like a vacation, maybe experiencing it once or twice a year for a short period of time. We keep it in a drawer. Each of us has an ability that comes easy to us; we understand we can do it in a way that’s different from the rest of the pack. It makes us special.

Let’s clarify: the fact that it comes easy doesn’t mean aiming low. This isn’t about “Oh, well that’s easy so I’ll do that.” This doesn’t mean settling for the simplest task. Following your passion comes with its own challenges. People may not understand your zeal—but that level of excitement will be what wins people over. Your own fan club…you know, we all have one whether we admit to it or not. I bet if you took a moment, you could even identify the governing members of your fan club—the friendly rabble rousers, the organizers, the cheerleaders. A lot of people cheer you from the stands. Take a minute and soak that one in—because you spend a lot of time pretending that your fan club exists only in your head.

Nope, it’s very real.

As much as you may be compelled to do this thing you love, there are going to be moments when you stamp your little foot and ask if it’s worth it. Much as you love it, you may start to feel like it’s your bad boyfriend—“I give and I give and for what?” *dramatic, angst-filled noise here* “I’ve committed to you—and you don’t take me seriously!” *fists curled, cue tears* “Why do I bother? You’ll never amount to anything. Leave me alone!” *door slam, aaaand scene* All the energy you put into this—and what are you getting back? But stop that tantrum—you know exactly what you’re getting back from your efforts. You’re telling the world who you are.

Valuable.

This thing—it gives you the words you need to express who you are. Your passion is a universal translator—by following your passion, you give people the words to describe your make up, identify who you are and what you’re about. Everyone understands more about the person you are when you are practicing your true talents. Your passion is your modifier…without it, you’re just a simple sentence. “See Jill run.”

With it, you’re more. “Clearly see Jill, in a new way, gracefully run with purpose.”

See what I did? You’re different in that sentence and so am I.

Life does not take kindly to you ignoring the gifts you’ve been given so don’t try to fight it. And Life will become dogged in Its determination to get you to see, accept and understand what you were put here to embrace. Your job is to find a way to integrate your passion into your life.

Wow, it sounds so much easier when I say it out loud…not.

But here’s your leg up—you will be gifted with endless enthusiasm, ever renewable resources of focus and a need to accomplish this task in a way you can’t explain.

Your passion is boundless.

Give your passions the credit they are due. Don’t discount your natural talents. You may think they aren’t fully developed but the beauty is that you’ve identified them and now you can exercise them, prance them around the track, locate the mentors who will further develop them—and help you appreciate the power they possess.

Maybe you feel like you haven’t identified your great talent. You know. It’s the little voice that whispers in your ear—it says “Follow me.” It nudges you in the right direction. Just listen. Watch. Remember that fan club of yours I mentioned earlier? Well, Life is in the stands yelling *hot!* and *cold!* and giving you all the signs It possibly can—eyes open, my friend. The answers are all around you.

You—you with that thing. Not everyone can do that thing.

Life is a personal quest that can set you on the path to slay dragons and monsters, find your holy grail or discover a way to float in the goodness of everything that surrounds you. Many times you find yourself with the same question marks above your heads: what is the next path to take, who should be at your side, will you succeed?

Sometimes, you just stand there, waiting, immobile until all answers come to you. Mistakes are messy, you think. What if you do the wrong thing?

But there really are no mistakes. Everything has led you to this moment. You are the machine that is uniquely designed to accomplish this task—yes, even if you’re not quite sure what *it * will ultimately be.

Maybe you should treat these new things as if you were starting a race. The gun goes off and your primary action is to get out of the gate fast. Let’s face it, you’ve trained for this. You’re in the race for a reason. But no one ever wins the race without taking the first step.

Ask yourself these questions while you’re waiting in the block for the starting gun. And, for fun, jot down the answers.

1. What are you compelled to do? Couldn’t stop if you wanted to and it goes beyond mentioning that you have no inclination of ever stopping. One on the reasons: you’re good at it. When you are doing this thing, it feels easy and it all makes sense—because this may be the thing you were made to do.

2. What is the thing you love so much you could stop if you had to? You have *this thing* and if someone took it from you, you would hissy and stomp until you got it back—what is that thing you have to do? Try not to figure out how it becomes a career or is monetized—just identify.

3. What grabs your attention in a way it doesn’t grab others? We all have those unusual things, our little tweeks— we notice that others don’t seem to, details that stand out differently to you than the rest of the crowd. You have an eye for it. You see the special, even if, when you reflect, it may make you feel like you have a teeny tiny case of OCD. Make a note of it.

4. What would you do even if no one paid you for it? You love it so much, you’d do it for free. You’d keep doing it if no one ever saw it, no one ever read it, touched it —or loved it. You love and appreciate it so much, so ridiculously, that it is its own reward.

Take a look at what you wrote down. These are clues, Nancy Drew. Put this somewhere you will see regularly, and watch what starts to come up.

You know, others are cheering for you. You aren’t the only one who wants to see you cross the finish line first. You have a fan club, a quiet group of people who are perched on the edge of their seats just waiting to see your next move.

There are a lot of people who think you’re going to win, you’re going to find it and you’re going to make it yours.

As I stand on the threshold of every new venture, especially one that makes me feels shaky, one that confirms all that I do not know, I think of walking on a frozen lake. It’s so easy as you begin from the shore—your first ten steps are strong and fearless. The water is shallow and it hasn’t taken much for it to freeze solidly. It’s what happens the further you get from shore—when things begin to happen under your footing to make you feel like this was all a foolish mistake, like you’ll never make it across this lake and even though you’ve travelled so far, you suddenly feel that you’ll never make it to the opposite shore.

You start to calm your nerves but then you hear it, the ice cracking under you. At first, you tell yourself that it was nothing—it wasn’t a crack it was more like a give, like an old stair creaking under your weight. A few more careful steps and all is silent except for the trudge of your boots catching the last bit of snow and crunching it into the ice. You breathe a cautious sigh of relief and work to recover your confidence.

Alone. Because who is foolish enough to follow you out onto the frozen lake? They’ve been warned and they listened. They’ll meet you safely on the other side where they now wait somewhere warm.

And there you are, standing in the middle of a frozen lake. You begin to think how deep it is where you stand; you remember that you’re not allowed to swim that far during the summers. It’s not safe. No one would be able to reach you in time.

But there you stand.

If others knew what you were doing they would have encouraged you to stay on the shore. They would call you careless. There’s no reason to take chances like this.

You take your next step. You hear the crack, the crack that seems to emanate from the toe of your boot and create a vein through the ice. You freeze as if you can stop what’s already started by standing still. The noise fills you with more fear that the understanding that the ice is cracking.

You take careful step after careful step as you picture yourself falling through the ice, landing in the freezing water, being carried under the frozen ice and trapped.

I always wonder how to define bravery. Is it doing something even if it terrifies you? Or is it still considered brave if you have no choice in the matter and must move forward? You, who decided to walk across the frozen lake—are you brave with your first step or do you become brave after the ice begins to crack and you still walk forward to the other shore?

So you find the courage and the shore becomes closer. You are still on top of the ice, not under it. You begin to wonder what you’d been so afraid of, as you move closer to the shore—of course, you were going to be fine. The ice is feet deep and will hold you, even if it makes a few cracking noises. There was never anything to worry about—your fears had merely found a way to whisper in your ear and touch on all your weakest spots. Once you are on the other side the lake doesn’t seems so big or so deep.

It’s the same lake as it was from the other side. It’s you that’s different now.

There is a wind that kicks up in me on a regular basis—an enormous dust devil that obscures my view, a tornado that picks up my house but never sets it down gently. Do you feel it? The sharp gnawing in your gut? Oh, yes, its hunger and yes, it’s for nourishment—but not food. That feeling is a little cupcake called gimme, frosted with neediness and topped with tiny, little sprinkles of unnecessary torment.

So much in life is obvious, in fact apparent, and we could see it, if we’d look–if we’d point our focus outside instead of inside. The responsibility is ours to focus in the direction of have, instead of have not. It’s our responsibility to notice beauty even if it’s wrapped in pain. It’s ours to see the opportunity in any seeming hardship or unfairness. The onus is on us to understand what we’ve gained with each loss.

Our focus can fill life with bounty instead of scarcity, with more instead of less. We’re responsible for the give and take, for the steal and borrow, for the need and the desires in each of our lives.

Sometimes, it feels like I sit at an overcrowded table…sit with a giant, hungry family…and on this table, there are a few tiny bowls of stale saltines. We are hon-gray throwing each other a quick side eye, waiting for the grabbing to commence. Like a horrible game of musical chairs, it is obvious before start that someone’s going to get left out. There’s not enough for everyone. Because everything is fixing to run dry—and we all want the same things. We are greedy. We NEED. We WANT. We’ve waited and we’re tired of being patient.

I increase my internal volume until I can finally hear a different voice—a voice that says, there is enough for everyone. There is enough love, success, talent, money, happiness, reward, acclaim, esteem, acknowledgement, all the things that feed us—these things don’t flow from a tiny well that is near depletion—even if our glass never feels quite full. These things flow from a limitless spring that is constantly fed by other sources. Sources that never run dry regardless of how much we claim.

I struggle to remember that there is enough for everyone as I compete with myself to accomplish new goals, as I shuffle around in the dark trying to gather up all of the elusive things that I believe will make me ME. I grit my teeth and furrow my brow as I witness things that I want—no, have earned, deserve—effortlessly fall into the lap of others while I crazily grab at butterflies as they fly up, up , up out of my reach.

If life were a buffet, I would understand the breathless anticipation we feel as we wait for our turn in line to RECEIVE—so fearful that the person in front of us is going to get the last delicious morsel that we have been waiting so long and so patiently for.

Goodness is not finite.

Someone is not going to take the last chunk of love or success or plenty or happiness that you’ve been longing for—all the things you’ve desired, worked for and felt you deserved—because there is enough for everyone.

No one’s going to take the love that is yours—it’s just waiting for you to claim it.

No one’s going to rob you of the success you’ve worked for—you can make it yours without elbowing and cutting to the front of the line.

No one’s going to pilfer the thing you’ve been working hard to acquire, the thing you’ve been searching the horizon to so hard to see, the thing you’ve worked to open yourself up to experience—when you are ready (and unfortunately you are not always the person who gets to decide that) it will all come to you.

It’s all about perspective. Point yourself toward the have, not the have not.

re•demp•tion: the act of saving something or somebody from a declined, dilapidated, or corrupted state and restoring it, him, or her to a better condition

You can define redemption many different ways, religious or otherwise. I’m not writing about redemption in the religious sense but more how we find ourselves redeemed—redeemed by the kindness of another. The theme of redemption continues to grab my face and force me to look at the best and the worst we all offer up.

The long sigh of relief called redemption—ever experienced it? The most searing thing about redemption is that something shitty has to happen first. You must be lessened…or is it lessoned?

The process of redemption makes up the history of who each of us are. Redemption is a mixture of rescue, conversion and recovery. You get taken down a notch or two only to be rebuilt by another. Emotionally bionic. Sure, you may be weak is certain areas. But the category of your life that encounters redemption is strong and steeled, ready for battle and smarter the next time its finds itself in one. Because someone decided to forgive your actions and give you a mulligan.

Redemption is about losing something and filling that spot left with something benevolently provided by someone else. That person didn’t have to in fact, you’ve probably done something to make them feel like they every reason NOT to. And now, to your surprise, the thing that you were given—your reprieve—becomes far more valuable than what you originally lost.

Yes, benevolence is a supreme ingredient in redemption—it allows you to be forgiven and restored. You get a second chance. Do over. The hardest part of the whole redemption equation is accepting what we are offered and forgiving ourselves for whatever the offense may have been. Forgiving ourselves for our shortcomings. Our lack. Our missing of the mark.

Forgiveness seems to be the most difficult road to travel whether we are led by another or travelling alone, sometimes tripping and falling. Its so hard to not be perfect…repeatedly.

Maybe redemption is about belief—belief that there’s a better version of the you that just did that stupid thing, that this moment isn’t one that defines yet one that creates a new path and shines an even brighter light for you to see the way. But how amazing that two people (minimum) from opposite corners of a situation can meet in the middle to make things better.

Next time you miss, remember—you may have just been doing something new and familiar.

Life is a surprising thing. Being saved or saving others—we’ve all been on both ends of that sharp pointy stick.

What a thing…to do your part.