By Jill MacGregor

I started this blog just a few months ago on September 11th, as a birthday present to myself. I didn’t know exactly what to expect as I began. It’s been a thrill for me.

Tracks in the snow. You. You there. I know you’re out there…quietly tiptoeing around in the dark and leaving behind your analytics. I see the trail you leave. I so love to hear your shouts from the etherworld. Overwhelming me with your opinions, hopes, rants.

I want to thank you for reading. I don’t think I can tell you how much it means to me that you take time out of your day to do so.

That little thing you do is so meaningful to me.

Thank you.

My personal goal was to hit 2,500 unique visitors this year and I hit 2,501.

Thank you again.

Here are your favorite posts in order. You picked all my favorites. Hope you enjoy.

Since I am embracing “don’t ask, don’t get” this year in a brand new way, I’d like to ask two more things of you. If you haven’t subscribed, it would mean a lot to me if you would. And if there’s a post that speaks to you, please share it with a friend.

Thanks in advance.

Your Faves From 2009

Your 2010 is going to kick it.

It’s the time of year when we’re thinking about what to give people in our lives and also what we’d like to get ourselves. I have an unfortunate holiday shopping practice: one for them, one for me, one for them, one for me.

Think of the list you’ve made for yourself over the years—all of the tangible and intangible things you feel would make you happy if only they were yours. It’s easy to spend a lot of time wishing for what’s on that list without making plans for what you’ll do once you get it.

There’s something on the other side of getting. It’s doing. How will things change when you get what you want—really think about it. What would you do differently if you had those things? There’s one thing that probably won’t change and that’s you. Because you are the same you on either side of the equation.

Of course, there are certain things that we wish for that do make an instant difference like a healing, a baby, money, for example. These are gifts that can transform us and the situations we find ourselves in. Maybe you want those things and haven’t received them yet—what would happen if you lived your life as if you had? Because I am wondering what would happen if you started living your life as if you’d already received those things you wanted. Live your life as if you’d been healed. Give love to others as if you were a mother or a father. Feel as if you always have more than enough and sharing is second nature. Enact the transformation regardless.

I’ve said it before—emulate. What actions are suspended while you stand on the shore squinting in the sun in hopes of seeing your ship on the horizon? Think about yourself waiting on the shore–So much is on hold while you wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

Waiting is not an action.

Update your list. Think about how you will implement your gifts. This can be the year things happen and you need to be ready.

Be the gift you wish you would be given.

It’s just corny enough during this time of the year to grab onto to thoughts like these and put them into action. Some things just seem more plausible when children are busy believing in Santa Claus and adults are busy playing along.

by Jill MacGregor

Who’s on Your Team?

We all have a team–a team being that group of people, family and friends, that you rely on in good times and bad. They are the people you reach for first. They become your comfort, your security blanket, your voice of reason.

You have a special language with these people, one that’s been developed throughout the years and it’s punctuated with snorts, raised eyebrows and smiles that say more than words. With these people, their actions don’t have to be monumental to be significant.

Who Embraces Your Contradictions?

I am feeling sorry for myself; I am not going to lie. Someone is stealing my sounding board. I’m becoming aware of a tightening circle. No one’s dying. Nothing sad is happening. A friend is going off to live a dream. I’m just so sad that she’s doing it so far away from me. And I wonder how I will ever be able to replace the necessary ingredient she is in my life — that I will now only have on a limited basis. It’s like someone took my salt.

So, here’s some real change. People leaving and slowly getting used to the hole that is created by their absence.

Those people—you know, the ones you hold close because they are the people who truly get you. They like your weird parts and, Lord knows, you were blessed with plenty there. These special people refer to your weird parts as your personality and they like it—they even search it out. They choose to be around it. It makes them happier…somehow.

Those people share the wins in your life, significant or tiny, with the same amount of zeal and are always there to remind you of the victories when you lose sight of the progress you’ve made. They lead the cheer, they get people on their feet and they remind you of the excitement.

Among your friends, I imagine you have a tiny handful–a core–that keeps the machine that is you running smoothly and productively. This select group of friends understands why you run when you really just want someone to ask you to stay, why you laugh when your eyes rim with tears, why you push when you are hoping for agreement.

I quietly feel the emptiness in preparation of her leaving, as if I’ve reached my hand into a dark cave to feel if there’s anything lurking. I test what my world might be like without my friend a couple miles away, without the casual “of course”-ness which is the foundation of our friendship. And, she’s taking her husband and daughter with her too. That’s just adding insult to injury.

I will miss all of them.

But why am I such a sad sack? She and her family are making this enormous life change, leaving a city they’ve lived in for 19 years to *go in search of…* Right—dot dot dot. That’s fantastic! She gets to live a dream. Her face is lit up. The list is long, thrilling and unclear as to what the exciting end product might be. They are like blind people forced to work with their other senses, knowing the new situation needs to feel like this and a part of their new life may do that but not knowing what they have their hands on until they compare notes. Enormity.

I also look at my friends leaving with the big suspicious side eye. Let me explain why. My friend is also an impetus—she does something big, talks about the change, gets me thinking about things in my life and then I do something big. I guess I sometimes need her to prime the pump.

So, I watch them go. And I wonder how my life will change not only because of their absence but because of their example.

If you liked this you might want to read My Funny Valentine.

by Jill MacGregor

You lucky bastard.

You heard me, you magnificent, lucky bastard.

I know you may be having some tough times right now. Maybe you feel alone. Forgotten. Disconnected. Powerless. Unable. Heartsick. Overwhelmed. Unrecognized. Lost in the situation you find yourself.

I know.

But you’re also loved. There are people who think you are cool and are amazed by the things you do. All your little acts of kindness—they become seeds in the wind and they end up taking root in the most surprising places—and you’ll probably never know about all the good you’ve done.

Think about all the things people don’t even know about you—you, who keep your light under a bushel far too often. Maybe today’s the day to bring that out into the light. I wonder what would change if you did.

There is no one like you. You with your multitude of gifts.

I’m going to offer you an opportunity to share your gifts. What do you say…why not harness all your goodness, take a moment and make a change for the world.

Visit Kiva . This is your opportunity. You can make a difference in people’s lives—your engagement with Kiva will become your seeds in the wind–but you will know exactly where those seeds take root and how they will affect change.

It’s amazing when your goodness and your power work together.

Kiva distributes micro-loans to entrepreneurs in developing countries. It’s easy to forget how a small amount of money can do so much in developing countries—Twenty five dollars makes a huge difference to these entrepreneurs in hitting their financial goals and moving themselves and their families toward independence. So easy…miss a happy hour. The nut will be covered.

What would it feel like to help someone in such a significant way? Someone needs your help. Giving will allow you to feel connected and help you realize the power you do possess to truly make a change.

You are so amazing.

You magnificent, lucky bastard.

Learn about Kiva
Donate to Kiva

by Jill MacGregor

You are a fake and everyone knows it.

We all talk about it when you’re not around. That silence you detect when you walk into the room—we only hope you didn’t hear what we were saying about you because we know it would shatter your fragile as glass ego.

We talk about that, too, when you’re not around.

In fact, all the times we are unable to make your gaze–it’s because we’re replaying the last 10 conversations we had with others discussing the mock-up life you wave in front of us on a regular basis.

We think it’s sad. More accurately, we pity you.

You seem to be the only one buying the fabrication.

Actually, we’ve gotten to the point where we feel it imperative to call you out and name you for what you truly are—an imposter—and have this sham over with once and for all.

We’re tired of pretending and you must be too.

Do you hear this conversation a lot? It was pretty harsh, wasn’t it? All that constant doubt…

That voice is yours and yours alone and only one person can still the sound of it.

You couldn’t hire someone to give you a beating as severe as this one. There is only one person strong enough to beat this bully down and its you.

How To Knock The Bully on Its Ass

Take a deep breath. Never underestimate the power of a deep breath. Oxygen is one of the main ingredients responsible for energy production in our bodies. Taking a deep breath is more than a good idea…its SCIENCE. Breathe deep and renew your cells!

Remind yourself of who you truly are. Which is a good person who tries hard and works to be fair. It’s easy to get caught up; beating yourself up for not being perfect but, honestly, perfect isn’t very interesting. You will learn so much more from the occasional misstep and you’ll be a better person for it in the long run.

Look at things you might need to change. I hate to break it to you, but *controlling other’s thoughts* has no place on this list. We are all works in progress, constantly up for revision. If you could change one thing about yourself or your life, what would it be? Start there. We all have trusted advisors in our lives. Check in with yours for some helpful feedback and reinforcement to make the changes that will be important.

Treat yourself as a friend would. Gentle, gentle. There’s no reason for this rough behavior and you wouldn’t allow anyone to be so abusive toward you—even if that *anyone* was you. A friend appreciates you for who you are. A friend supports you through difficult times. A friend stands up for you. Try emulating this behavior.

You’re worth it.

by Jill MacGregor

I have a strong belief that each of us has the capacity to do anything is we wish. Some of us work harder to get what we want. Some of us drag our heels and blame a lack of natural talents for the lack of progress. Is about enthusiasm? What keeps us from reaching for our dreams?

Your Fake Smile

Listen, we’ve all done at one point in our lives. There’s this thing, and you have to do it, and you see it as having no value yet, at the same time, you must convey excitement about it to an outside group.

You are polishing the turd.

There’s no joy in it. It does not matter how shiny you get it. It’s always going to be a turd.

Why do you bother?

There’s usually some side benefit you derive that keeps you on this hamster wheel. Maybe the group you are surrounded with is fantastic and the thought of not seeing them everyday makes you stay put—so you polish. Or, you might feel you have no choice in the matter. You are frozen in a moment, stuck in the Land of Have To, which borders StuckInaRutVille. So you polish. You might think you are obliged to continue because you need the money, have misplaced responsibility or worse yet you’ve lost your ability to see other options.

Polish.

So you spit and you polish and develop callouses. You work hard shining it up and you tell yourself all that work is forward motion—you apply maximum effort but nothing changes.

Once a turd, always a…well, you know.

I am encouraging you to put it down—yes, that’s it. Just put it down. There…better?

What are you excited about?

We all have things that excite us. You might consider that thing that excites you a hobby because even though you LOVE it, you don’t think there’s any way to make it a serious pursuit. Bet what that really means is that you have to get outside of your comfort zone, bring your *hobby* into the light and allow others to watch you love it. You will be different, feel different if you do that. That could feel scary. You may end up being a different version of yourself.

Interesting…

You may want to visit Daring Acts—How To Work Without A Net, for more on this subject.

If you could do anything, what would it be?

I want to tell you a story about something that happened to me about 10 years ago. I was working at a TV station in sales in Seattle. I was downtown and walking fast (because I was so important), trying to get to an advertising agency for an appointment. Hustle, pimp, hustle, pimp.

When you spend a lot of time in downtown Seattle you become very accustomed to tourists waving their maps at you and asking for directions. We are preternaturally helpful in Seattle, which makes us geographically predisposed to offer help.

“Where’s Westlake Center?” “It’s behind you.”

“Where’s Nordstrom?” “It’s across the street.”

“Where’s Starbucks?” “Dude…”

“Where’s my ass?” “Put the map down. I’ll show you.”

Poor tourists. They were always so close. If the tourist attraction they were searching were a snake, it would have bit them. Every time.

So I’m walking fast, I’m important, I’ve gotta get somewhere and I see someone’s Grandma walking toward me. She fixes her gaze on me as she approaches which is the tourist’s silent signal that they are about to ask directions.

Let me take a moment and describe her to you. She was all tweeded out. Hound’s-tooth jacket and matching skirt. Sensible shoes. White hair in a bun. Umbrella, in case.

She looked out of place, like she’d fallen from the sky, when it comes to Seattle tourists. She was prim. You don’t encounter prim very often in Seattle…broad, generalizing statement. And she wasn’t from Seattle…you could just tell.

“Excuse me, she asked, could I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Bet I looked at my watch.

“What do you for a living?”

Oh. That is not across the street.

“I’m in advertising sales at a TV station.”

“Do you love it?”

“Well, yes, I like it a lot.”

“If you could do anything, what would it be?”

“I’d be a writer.”

“What is keeping you from doing that, fear or money?”

“Probably both.”

“So If you didn’t have to worry about money, you’d be a writer?”

“Yes.”

And then The Brilliant Girl looked this stranger in the face who was asking thought provoking questions and somehow getting her to respond openly and without hesitation and said, “I really have to go.”

I really have to go.

I smack my forehead with the heel of my hand and spit “Stupid!” (V-8) every time I replay this story.

I have a firm belief that Tweedy Grandma was *sent*. You know sent…perhaps from on high…to urge me to stop, think and focus on my dreams. (I’m whispering now because –A) I’m sharing and that makes me uncomfortable and– B) I’m pretty sure this might sound weird). Weird because I would NEVER tell a perfect stranger deep personal things on the street. And WEIRD because our conversation was eye ball to eye ball, rapid fire—ask, answer, ask, answer. I never hmm’d and thought about my answer — I just spat it out.

For years, I would search the crowd downtown in hopes of seeing her.

“Ask me more! Ask me more! Tweedy Grandma, please expose my soul with your questions!” I would have pleaded, pulling at her sleeve.

I kick myself to this day that I ended the conversation so prematurely. She made me think about important things in a way I hadn’t for a long time.

What words do you need to hear for your match to get struck?

I’m not talking about motivation—I’m not talking about that extra push you need to get you up the hill. I’m talking about words that dance around, slap you in the face and leave you with your mouth agape. These words leave new thoughts in their wake.

Some conversations leave us changed. We’ve all have had conversations that change our thinking, illuminate a dark path and engage us. Words are power and we hear them differently depending upon the time in our life.

I know one thing. If you want this type of experience, you’ve got to watch for it. I must be the sentry standing at the gate, observant and attentive. If you make your intention known, things will start falling from the sky and knocking you on the head.

Make sure you don’t end the experience prematurely.

I don’t know what made me think of this story today but I want to share it with you. At a young age, it taught me that things and people are not always as they seem.

Let me start by telling you that I was a Girl Scout and that means I was a salesperson in training. I am genetically predisposed to have no fear around strangers—my Dad was always in sales and my Mom is preternaturally friendly—so I was eager to get out there and sell the Thin Mints and, the far less interesting, calendars.

Our neighborhood was full of kids who all played together, girls and boys. Summers were full of kick the can, army, hide and seek, bike races and bare feet on soft tar alleys. When I would go pimping for the Girls Scouts, I pretty much knew who I was talking to.

But there was this one house.

There was a little girl who lived there, probably my age, who never played with us. She was…”big boned” and a bit on the pasty side…I doubt her bare feet ever sunk into warm tar alleys. The rare times we saw her outside, we’d ask if she’d want to play, in that universally inclusive way kids have, but she’d tell us to get out of her yard. She was snotty and her face always said “Oh, yea!?”

She lived with a woman who looked to be her Grandma. The Grandma was equally unfriendly and would yell at us any chance she got to get out of her yard and quit making so much noise. I was sure she’d been a witch in a fairy tale.

They were mean, so we steered clear.

Except during calendar or cookie season. Look, I had business to conduct. I was there in a professional capacity, not to play, not to have fun, but to earn my way to camp by promoting a nonprofit and further branding their products on a grass roots level.

It would not have been right to skip this house because of personal issues.

So every year, I would go to their door. Usually, the Grandma would answer as if I were a bill collector, ask me with a scowl what I wanted in a voice my parents only used when I was in trouble. The little girl was usually parked in front of the TV and the room was always darker that it should be.

Now, they were not only mean but weird by my standards.

Every year, I would do go to their door—twice a year, mind you, because, as we all know, cookies and calendars have separate seasons. Every year, I would get yelled at for being a Girl Scout and doing my duty. (Do you see my 3 fingers up in the GS salute? So earnest…)

Let’s skip ahead a couple of years. I am now a mature 6th grader and this is my final year of Girl Scouts because, well… I really can’t be bothered. But, being my final year, I am going to kick it out of the park with this cookie thing. I have a spiel for selling these cookies. I remember the houses that buy and those that waffle, and I go back to those who waffle until they break and SUMBIT TO MY WILL. YOU WILL BUY MY COOKIES. AND YOU WILL LIKE IT.

I’m standing on the sidewalk eyeballing their door. Behind that door stands my nemesis. The WEIRD and MEAN lady who won’t buy my cookies and the equally weird and mean girl who, although she has no buying power, really should like me.

Oh, they are going down.

I knock on the door and the Grandma opens. I’m so confused. She smiling at me like a grandma would. She is patiently waiting for me to speak and not slamming the door in my face and not yelling that she doesn’t want my cookies. In fact, she lets me go on and describe each of the cookies—I am getting to do my best spiel. It’s so confusing that she’s smiling at me. And, yes, she would like to buy 2 boxes, please–which is the number people always would pick when they just wanted to be polite. (Because, friends, they used to be $1 a box…) Smiling and polite. She asks me how school is and if I like being a Girl Scout. We are chatting.

I notice the little girl is not sitting in front of the TV and the room seems bright. We’ve become so friendly that I ask the Grandma where the little girl is. Maybe she’s turned nice, too.

The Grandma looks at me for a minute trying to maintain her smile. “Well, she was sick. She’d been sick for a long time, almost since she was a baby. She had something called leukemia. She died this summer.”

As a child, there is nothing more shocking than to hear that a child has died. Even though I was only 11, I understood that the Grandma wasn’t really mean all those years. She was scared and worried and felt helpless. Possibly resented the fact that I was healthy and freckled and being a Girl Scout. And that little girl—she probably wasn’t mean either. She was sick and scared and mad that she couldn’t just be a kid.

I don’t know what made me think of this. But I remembered it as if I was standing outside of that house in Waterloo, Iowa in 1973, my order sheet in hand.

Sometimes it’s not at all what you think. In all honesty, who tries to find out why someone’s an ass or yells for no reason or scowls in response to neutral words. I know I usually pigeonhole those people into the *asshole* category and remove them from my emotional line of site.

I am not always right. Maybe that’s why this memory found its way to the surface—to remind me to take a little more time before passing judgement.

On my honor, I will try.

Yea, you heard me. This moment–this stinky, metal on metal, fit last season and now it doesn’t moment.

How do you keep yourself up when you feel like you’re in quagmire? We’ve all been there—things change too quickly or unexpectedly, leaving you thinking of happier times and resenting your current situation. I’m an impatient person and sometimes I find myself concentrating on all the negatives, big or small. I want smooth, and oh, there it is and that’s exactly what I was thinking.

But on occasion I get itchy sweaters on a hot, hot day. Turtlenecks. Sharp sticks poking me in the side. General emotional blech.

Here are my suggestions for those moments:

• Take yourself out from under the microscope

Don’t get mad, but you are not the center of the universe. I know, I have to remind myself of this on a regular basis. Focus on something else for 5 minutes. It doesn’t have to be the most significant thing in your day. Write a haiku—5,7,5, remember?

• Do something for someone else

See: “You are not the center of the universe”.
Sometimes, it’s just about changing your focus. Try putting that brilliant spotlight on others for awhile—and use your powers for good, not evil. I pick a random day each week and focus on doing 5 things for someone else—big or small, for friends or strangers. It helps me to put a measurement against it (freak) after dealing in a world where it’s all about deliverables. Everyone wins and I hope it creates a positive ripple in everyone’s day. You know, butterfly wings…

• Change your scenery

Take a little walk, go get a latte, take an overnight trip out of town, go to the gym. There are so many choices and, the best thing is, your voyage doesn’t have to be lengthy or involved to be effective. I don’t know why it works but it always does. It has the same unexplainable curative properties as 7up when you’re sick.

• Be your own best friend

You know exactly what your best friend would say or do at this moment to motivate, cheer, and inspire you. There’s a reason why this person is your best friend. Have your own WWMBFD? –otherwise referred to as “What Would My Best Friend Do?” Allow the horrible carney voice in your head to be turned into a loving, caring voice—even if it’s delivering a bit of tough love. That’s what friends do—just emulate.

• Create your own *Mental Health Moment*

I have a friend I call and the conversation starts, “I need a mental health break.” She understands that distraction is the only thing required. I will take happily take pith at this moment, mental shiny keys jingling before me, solely designed to distract me from the stuck place I currently reside.

Sometimes, friends are busy and we have to practice some old fashioned self soothing. Here are some of my favorite places to visit online to take me away from the moment when I need more than videos of cats doing cute things:

Zen Habits Leo Babauta’s blog on simple productivity in all aspects of our lives. Thought provoking articles with good “How to’s”.
Dooce Heather Armstrong used to be a Mormon, is an author, lives in Utah with her husband, kids and dogs, talks about dealing with depression and is a stitch—you now, same old. She writes about her far from everyday life in an hysterical, honest way.
The Happiness Project Gretchen Rubin is testing all the theories on how to be happy. Good food for thought and she gives you tools to start your own happiness project.
Dreamin The Life Portland blogger who writes about trying, failing and succeeding to live the best life. Funny and true, like you’re talking with a friend.
The Art of Non-Conformity Chris Guillebeau’s blog on not working for the man, travel and living his dreams. One of his goals is to visit every country in the world—he’s currently at 119 out of 197. I gotta get out more…
Totally Unique Thoughts Sign up for your daily message from the Universe. Yes, you heard me. The Universe will send you brilliantly short pep talks to your inbox. It is as effective as a compliment from a stranger. Try it.
FAIL Blog Just people effing up left and right and always in front of a camera. So wonderful. Based here in Seattle—we are almost neighbors.

 

• Visit TED.com

We live in a fascinating world and information is available to us in ways it never has been before…good and bad. Give TED 20 minutes and you can listen to a cool talk on ANYTHING by the person in the world who know the most about it, is probably funny and may even have an accent. You will feel smart after TED, in a MENSA way, I promise.

• Love on an animal

The Stroke Institute found that people who owned cats were 30 percent less likely to suffer a heart attack. (Kind of weird though since they’re the Stroke Institute…) Anyway, when I’m feeling a little out of sorts, I just dig my old cat out from under the bed and force her to hug on me. Very effective.

• Write through it

Sometimes I just need to untangle myself and dissect something that’s bothering me without other’s input. It’s amazing what you can discover when you read your own words and hear your voice, sometimes for the first time.

• And, more than anything…

Remember, that this is a moment in time and that it too will pass. Remind yourself of the last challenge and how you made it through. I know it sounds like a can of corn but tomorrow is another day, full of wonderful and horrible and it is totally up to you on how you focus. You are in control on that pesky voice that tells you, “You can’t. You will fail.”
I believe you can do it.



Now, stop ready FAIL blog and get back to it.

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