Hey there!
It's HoopWoman here. I just finished a whirlwind trip to Sarasota for a combo of keynote work and friend play. Last night I went to the Nokomis Beach Drum Circle with my buddy Vanessa and carried Betsy, my badass hoop, along with me. When the powerful rhythms started, my booty started to shake without any conscious decision-making on my part. After just a few minutes, Betsy and I nervously stepped into the circle and started to groove.
While I'm certainly no Spiral or Brecken, I'm still pretty damn proud of not only being able to hoop, but I also have the stones enough to get up in front of a crowd of strangers and hoop like no one is watching. In a bikini top. At 42 years of age. We should everything in our lives like no one is watching. That's where the juice is.
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Thursday, October 1, 2009
A Morning of "Me Too!"s
As part of my job as Author, Speaker, and Bringer of the Mojo, I write a monthly newsletter called The Rose Report. In it, I include a message of inspiration typically about self-acceptance, gratitude, consciousness, and other warm, fuzzy things that make life so juicy. However, I have not felt like a Bringer of the Mojo over the last few months due to my recent, hellacious cross-country move.
When I had to write this month's newsletter, I was faced with a choice. Do I pretend that everything is hunky-dory, or do I share my inner ick? As with writing my book, Opening the Kimono: A Woman's Intimate Journey Through Life's Biggest Challenges, I decided to have some cajones and go for the latter. I know from personal experience that it is where the healing takes place. Here is what I wrote:
"FINDING MY WAY BACK...
Just as I wrote in last month's Rose Report, I continue to struggle to find my footing in my new home of Minnesota. While I have been blessed to spend more time with family and meet new, wonderful friends, I am still filled with a fair amount of fear. And panic. And anger. And annoyance. And depression. And every other negative emotion one can feel.
As a self-proclaimed "Bringer of the Mojo", it pains me to show you this small, disconnected part of me. I am feverishly trying to grow my professional speaking business, but I am feeling like a phony right at the moment. (How does one promote a speaking program called "Maximizing Your Mojo" when the speaker's Mojo is missing in action?) I dreaded having to write this month's newsletter, knowing that if I wrote a bunch of "life's-wonderful-be-grateful-you're-beautiful-everything's-a-gift" stuff, it would merely come across as empty platitudes from a woman who resembles a sad, powerless mutation of her true self. If you haven't noticed, I need someone to bring some Mojo my way.
The thing that's even more obnoxious about my descent into the dark side is that I know the cause of it! In a nutshell, I have not yet been successful in re-establishing my spiritual practice in my new house. I can count on one hand the number of times I meditated over the last thirty days, and I have done precious little movement. While I have somehow been able to sever the vice-grip sugar addiction I acquired during the move itself, I am still pounding my head against the wall, both personally and professionally. The price I have paid for ignoring Spirit has been a big one. I have been short with Emma more often than I care to admit, felt sluggish and icky physically, and obsessed over the fact that my book sales are lagging despite the overwhelming enthusiasm from readers and critics. Long story short, I am still teensy, tiny Theresa.
My mother used to have a saying that she would use during a particularly difficult situation. She used to say, "There is a four-letter word that will fix any problem: W-O-R-K." While I appreciated her teaching me about the value of a strong work ethic, a part of me believes that it was damaging in the long run. For the last sixty days, I have been consumed with that four-letter word. I have started working as soon as Emma goes to school, go non-stop for several hours without a break, and plug away until well into the evening. My neurotic behavior hasn't netted me any great successes; rather, it has fueled my sour attitude that has, unfortunately, permeated our home. In hindsight, I should have focused on the other four-letter words that would have helped me so much more: L-O-V-E and P-R-A-Y. Ironically, in order to kick myself out of this nasty funk I've put myself in, I need to do a lot less working and a lot more loving and praying.
Why on earth would I want to publicly share this bit of ugliness in a newsletter designed to pump people up? If I learned anything from writing Opening the Kimono, its that the act of sharing one's gunk allows it to be released, opening one up to new possibilities of power and joy. Hopefully, you will recognize some of your own self-inflicted smallness in my telling, and realize that we ALL have these moments once in a while. I know from first-hand experience that getting out of the spiral of depression is a challenging exercise. However, no amount of chocolate, movies, or complaining will make it any better. You have to carve out time to sit in silence every day, even if it is for only a few minutes. You have to move your body in more ways that just from bed to the table to the chair and back to bed. You have to honor the fact that if you want to heal yourself, you need to ask for help, not only from friends and family, but also from your Spiritual Posse. I guess Mom was right after all; you gotta WORK at it.
I no longer want to feel this badly. I no longer want to feel the fear of failure. I no longer want to go to bed angry. It is up to me to step back into my power, and I start working it. My first task is to ask for your help. Take one moment after reading this email to visualize both you and me as powerful "Bringers of the Mojo". See the two of us letting go of the vices and addictions that keep us tiny. Imagine that everything we desire is flowing to us easily and effortlessly. As I am writing this, I am imagining this for us both. Now, we need only to make those choices that will fulfill this vision.
This month, I will try to find my way back to the meditation room, back to the hoop, back to the yoga mat, and back to me. I hope you, too, have a wonderful, colorful, blissful, healthful October...just like I envisioned it to be!
Take care, and let's BOTH make it a great day!
Brightest blessings,
Theresa"
The response has been nothing short of phenomenal. I have received dozens of positive email responses from people over the last few hours. Their words were tender, vulnerable, honest, and courageous. Some wrote several paragraphs, and some merely a few sentences. While every person has a different story, every email contained the same theme: Thank you for sharing your heartfelt words, and I FEEL EXACTLY THE SAME WAY. It's good to know that I am not the only one out there.
I needed to hear this today. I needed to remember that my work is important and helps people. I can get lost in the depression of publisher rejections, stalled proposals, and meager book sales. The gifts I have received this morning are like precious jewels for my psyche. As such, they are going to be filed in my "Smiles" email folder. When things are especially difficult on the financial front, I am going to look back at these notes to remember why I've chosen to be an Author, Speaker, and Bringer of the Mojo in the first place.
I am so grateful for being reminded that we all go through the same struggles. It makes me feel like I'm not alone in this journey, and sharing our stories with each other will help us find our way back to joy. Together.
(If you want to receive the Rose Report for yourself, please visit my web site!)
When I had to write this month's newsletter, I was faced with a choice. Do I pretend that everything is hunky-dory, or do I share my inner ick? As with writing my book, Opening the Kimono: A Woman's Intimate Journey Through Life's Biggest Challenges, I decided to have some cajones and go for the latter. I know from personal experience that it is where the healing takes place. Here is what I wrote:
"FINDING MY WAY BACK...
Just as I wrote in last month's Rose Report, I continue to struggle to find my footing in my new home of Minnesota. While I have been blessed to spend more time with family and meet new, wonderful friends, I am still filled with a fair amount of fear. And panic. And anger. And annoyance. And depression. And every other negative emotion one can feel.
As a self-proclaimed "Bringer of the Mojo", it pains me to show you this small, disconnected part of me. I am feverishly trying to grow my professional speaking business, but I am feeling like a phony right at the moment. (How does one promote a speaking program called "Maximizing Your Mojo" when the speaker's Mojo is missing in action?) I dreaded having to write this month's newsletter, knowing that if I wrote a bunch of "life's-wonderful-be-grateful-you're-beautiful-everything's-a-gift" stuff, it would merely come across as empty platitudes from a woman who resembles a sad, powerless mutation of her true self. If you haven't noticed, I need someone to bring some Mojo my way.
The thing that's even more obnoxious about my descent into the dark side is that I know the cause of it! In a nutshell, I have not yet been successful in re-establishing my spiritual practice in my new house. I can count on one hand the number of times I meditated over the last thirty days, and I have done precious little movement. While I have somehow been able to sever the vice-grip sugar addiction I acquired during the move itself, I am still pounding my head against the wall, both personally and professionally. The price I have paid for ignoring Spirit has been a big one. I have been short with Emma more often than I care to admit, felt sluggish and icky physically, and obsessed over the fact that my book sales are lagging despite the overwhelming enthusiasm from readers and critics. Long story short, I am still teensy, tiny Theresa.
My mother used to have a saying that she would use during a particularly difficult situation. She used to say, "There is a four-letter word that will fix any problem: W-O-R-K." While I appreciated her teaching me about the value of a strong work ethic, a part of me believes that it was damaging in the long run. For the last sixty days, I have been consumed with that four-letter word. I have started working as soon as Emma goes to school, go non-stop for several hours without a break, and plug away until well into the evening. My neurotic behavior hasn't netted me any great successes; rather, it has fueled my sour attitude that has, unfortunately, permeated our home. In hindsight, I should have focused on the other four-letter words that would have helped me so much more: L-O-V-E and P-R-A-Y. Ironically, in order to kick myself out of this nasty funk I've put myself in, I need to do a lot less working and a lot more loving and praying.
Why on earth would I want to publicly share this bit of ugliness in a newsletter designed to pump people up? If I learned anything from writing Opening the Kimono, its that the act of sharing one's gunk allows it to be released, opening one up to new possibilities of power and joy. Hopefully, you will recognize some of your own self-inflicted smallness in my telling, and realize that we ALL have these moments once in a while. I know from first-hand experience that getting out of the spiral of depression is a challenging exercise. However, no amount of chocolate, movies, or complaining will make it any better. You have to carve out time to sit in silence every day, even if it is for only a few minutes. You have to move your body in more ways that just from bed to the table to the chair and back to bed. You have to honor the fact that if you want to heal yourself, you need to ask for help, not only from friends and family, but also from your Spiritual Posse. I guess Mom was right after all; you gotta WORK at it.
I no longer want to feel this badly. I no longer want to feel the fear of failure. I no longer want to go to bed angry. It is up to me to step back into my power, and I start working it. My first task is to ask for your help. Take one moment after reading this email to visualize both you and me as powerful "Bringers of the Mojo". See the two of us letting go of the vices and addictions that keep us tiny. Imagine that everything we desire is flowing to us easily and effortlessly. As I am writing this, I am imagining this for us both. Now, we need only to make those choices that will fulfill this vision.
This month, I will try to find my way back to the meditation room, back to the hoop, back to the yoga mat, and back to me. I hope you, too, have a wonderful, colorful, blissful, healthful October...just like I envisioned it to be!
Take care, and let's BOTH make it a great day!
Brightest blessings,
Theresa"
The response has been nothing short of phenomenal. I have received dozens of positive email responses from people over the last few hours. Their words were tender, vulnerable, honest, and courageous. Some wrote several paragraphs, and some merely a few sentences. While every person has a different story, every email contained the same theme: Thank you for sharing your heartfelt words, and I FEEL EXACTLY THE SAME WAY. It's good to know that I am not the only one out there.
I needed to hear this today. I needed to remember that my work is important and helps people. I can get lost in the depression of publisher rejections, stalled proposals, and meager book sales. The gifts I have received this morning are like precious jewels for my psyche. As such, they are going to be filed in my "Smiles" email folder. When things are especially difficult on the financial front, I am going to look back at these notes to remember why I've chosen to be an Author, Speaker, and Bringer of the Mojo in the first place.
I am so grateful for being reminded that we all go through the same struggles. It makes me feel like I'm not alone in this journey, and sharing our stories with each other will help us find our way back to joy. Together.
(If you want to receive the Rose Report for yourself, please visit my web site!)
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
The Green-Eyed Monster in Me
I friggin' hate being jealous. And it happens far too often for me to ignore.
The most recent case in point: A high school friend of mine just launched her first book with the help of a proper agent and publisher. She has an ungodly huge blog following, each of whom were chomping at the bit to buy her book the day it came out. As part of her launch efforts, she sold one autographed copy of her book on eBay which netted more than what I made last month in book sales. Just recently, she had a book signing where 60 copies of her book were sold (the number would have been higher if the bookstore would have stocked more). At my last book signing, I sold 6 and practically begged each customer for the sale. She did 15 phone interviews in one day; I can't remember the date of my last one. To put it mildly, I am INSANELY jealous of her.
The thing that really sucks about my mental malaise is that this chick is totally nice, funny, and talented. She was like that in high school, and she remains so to this day. (She was one of the few girls in high school I actually liked; she was a delightful flash of realness in a morass of pretentious, teenage phony-baloney.) She deserves to have huge success, and I am genuinely happy for her. However, I cannot escape my own insecurities, doubts, and fears whenever I hear about her latest score.
Why do we silently curse the successes of others? What is it about someone else doing well that rankles us so? I should have more sensitivity to this particular condition, as I have encountered it on the other end from people with whom I thought were my friends. As I dip my pinky toe in the pool of literary success, I have discovered that not everyone is overflowing with joy for me. Somehow they think that going for one's dream is unseemly or that I have become "too big for my britches". I have spent many a night kvetching to my husband about so-and-so giving me the cold shoulder simply because I am enthusiastically pursuing my career as an author, speaker, and bringer of the Mojo.
Yet, I am not immune to it. Unfortunately, this fog of envy that occasionally envelops me is not a new phenomenon. I have been jealous for as long as I can remember. As a kid, I was jealous of Mary because she had the first pair of Jordache jeans in school. I was jealous of Kim because she had cable before anyone else did. I was jealous of Angela because every guy (and more than a few girls) wanted to do her. I was jealous of Lindsey because she had the most phenomenal hair and always smelled like pretty French perfume. Bear in mind, these chicks were my best friends. Can you imagine how psycho I got about girls I DIDN'T like?
Jealousy is like a virus. It seeps into our souls and convinces us that who we are, what we do, or what we have is not good enough. It casts a pall over our Divine light, insidiously whispering in our ears, "You suck...you aren't good enough...you'll never have what she has...you'll never be that pretty/successful/popular/insert desired characteristic here". It makes us sick, unhappy, and afraid.
Enough is enough! I'm tired of it. I have been jealous for far too long. I think my friend's rapid rise to stardom is my chance to rid myself of the green-eyed monster once and for all. Every time I read of her latest accomplishment, I will say to myself, "Good for her! There is more than enough to go around. I'm glad to see another female writer succeed and know that I, too, will achieve my goals." There is no reason why her success can't pave the way for my own.
At least that's the plan.
Oh great...the drop-dead gorgeous waitress with the perfect body is sauntering over to my table to deliver my southwestern wrap and fries. Damn her! Who does she think she is, anyway?
Oops.
****************************************************************
For your comment and/or consideration:
Who or what brings out the green-eyed monster in you?
****************************************************************
Visit www.TheresaRose.net to receive your Daily Dose of Mojo!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The most recent case in point: A high school friend of mine just launched her first book with the help of a proper agent and publisher. She has an ungodly huge blog following, each of whom were chomping at the bit to buy her book the day it came out. As part of her launch efforts, she sold one autographed copy of her book on eBay which netted more than what I made last month in book sales. Just recently, she had a book signing where 60 copies of her book were sold (the number would have been higher if the bookstore would have stocked more). At my last book signing, I sold 6 and practically begged each customer for the sale. She did 15 phone interviews in one day; I can't remember the date of my last one. To put it mildly, I am INSANELY jealous of her.
The thing that really sucks about my mental malaise is that this chick is totally nice, funny, and talented. She was like that in high school, and she remains so to this day. (She was one of the few girls in high school I actually liked; she was a delightful flash of realness in a morass of pretentious, teenage phony-baloney.) She deserves to have huge success, and I am genuinely happy for her. However, I cannot escape my own insecurities, doubts, and fears whenever I hear about her latest score.
Why do we silently curse the successes of others? What is it about someone else doing well that rankles us so? I should have more sensitivity to this particular condition, as I have encountered it on the other end from people with whom I thought were my friends. As I dip my pinky toe in the pool of literary success, I have discovered that not everyone is overflowing with joy for me. Somehow they think that going for one's dream is unseemly or that I have become "too big for my britches". I have spent many a night kvetching to my husband about so-and-so giving me the cold shoulder simply because I am enthusiastically pursuing my career as an author, speaker, and bringer of the Mojo.
Yet, I am not immune to it. Unfortunately, this fog of envy that occasionally envelops me is not a new phenomenon. I have been jealous for as long as I can remember. As a kid, I was jealous of Mary because she had the first pair of Jordache jeans in school. I was jealous of Kim because she had cable before anyone else did. I was jealous of Angela because every guy (and more than a few girls) wanted to do her. I was jealous of Lindsey because she had the most phenomenal hair and always smelled like pretty French perfume. Bear in mind, these chicks were my best friends. Can you imagine how psycho I got about girls I DIDN'T like?
Jealousy is like a virus. It seeps into our souls and convinces us that who we are, what we do, or what we have is not good enough. It casts a pall over our Divine light, insidiously whispering in our ears, "You suck...you aren't good enough...you'll never have what she has...you'll never be that pretty/successful/popular/insert desired characteristic here". It makes us sick, unhappy, and afraid.
Enough is enough! I'm tired of it. I have been jealous for far too long. I think my friend's rapid rise to stardom is my chance to rid myself of the green-eyed monster once and for all. Every time I read of her latest accomplishment, I will say to myself, "Good for her! There is more than enough to go around. I'm glad to see another female writer succeed and know that I, too, will achieve my goals." There is no reason why her success can't pave the way for my own.
At least that's the plan.
Oh great...the drop-dead gorgeous waitress with the perfect body is sauntering over to my table to deliver my southwestern wrap and fries. Damn her! Who does she think she is, anyway?
Oops.
****************************************************************
For your comment and/or consideration:
Who or what brings out the green-eyed monster in you?
****************************************************************
Visit www.TheresaRose.net to receive your Daily Dose of Mojo!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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