Opening My Kimono in 2010

I no longer want to write, I NEED to. My life depends on it.

The last eight months have been one of the most difficult periods in my life. My husband Michael and I have found ourselves in the unenviable position of struggling to find gainful employment, shortselling our home in Florida, having to move out of our rented home in Minnesota and into a small, two bedroom apartment, and fighting off creditors that are starting to bang on our door. Long story short, we are running out of money.

When I was in college, I learned about a psychologist named Abraham Maslow and his theory that human behavior is dictated by a hierarchy of needs. On the bottom level of the pyramid, one strives to have basic, physiological needs met, those of breathing, water, sex, food, and shelter. Once those needs are met, one has the freedom to move up the pyramid to the second level in an attempt to meet safety and security needs. Once those are met, we move upward to focus on love and affection. If those are satisfied, we elevate to having our needs for esteem, confidence, and respect of others met. Finally, if all of these areas are provided for, we transcend to the highest level to that of self-actualization.

In other times in my life, I have been blessed to reside on the top of the pyramid. I have spent hours contemplating my own existence (and navel) and worked on core issues that kept me from being the most enlightened, non-judgmental, expressive person I could be. Those were good times indeed! I got the healing work I needed, experienced the creature comforts that a full bank account (or a large credit line) afforded, and had ample time to pursue happiness around every corner. My relationships were rich and rewarding, my body was in excellent condition, I had a spring in my step, and I went to bed every night with a smile on my face.

However, I have also resided at the bottom of the pyramid. I painfully recall the years in my early twenties when I avoided answering my phone -- when I had a phone -- because I knew that a bill collector would be on the other line. (These were the olden days before the invention of the omniscient Caller ID.) Dinner consisted of ramen noodles or easy cheese spread over my fingers. I lived in a God-awful, rodent-infested apartment right next to the El train tracks in Chicago and lived paycheck to paycheck. If my friends and I went out and had a few drinks at the local bar, I would have to find a way to survive over several days without food until I got paid again. Sometimes dinner would be saltine cracker packets surreptitiously acquired from the local Wendy's. Eventually I worked my way out of the shithole I was in and slowly, ever slowly, climbed up Maslow's ladder.

Now, at forty years of age and a husband and daughter later, I find myself back on the bottom. Many nights I have laid awake, asking God why he won't send me the big book deal or the next lucrative speaking contract. My stomach has started to respond with that same, burning sensation I used to feel when I had ulcers. Everything around me is getting tighter -- my throat, my bank account, and my pants. This difficult situation has become even more disquieting given the fact that I am supposed to be the award-winning author of inspirational personal essays and a dynamic motivational speaker!!! I tell myself in the quietest, darkest times that I am a failure because I am so woefully mishandling my life. Instead of being the Bringer of the Mojo, I have become the Bringer of the Slo-Mo. This challenging period has caused me to fill myself with guilt, shame, and anger, both at myself and at God. Why won't you hear my prayers?? What have I done to deserve this?? What did I do wrong?? Am I being punished for some bad behavior I have previously done?? Why, why, why???

In the cold light of day, I realize that my struggles aren't unique or personal. The economic downturn has caused many of us to dramatically alter our lives, and we are forced to re-examine our priorities. Not only are we doing without, but many of us are thrown into the deep end of the survival pool. However, it's important to remember that just because you can't pay your bills, that doesn't make you less of a person. Just because my calendar contains less speaking engagements then I would like it to doesn't mean that I am a bad speaker. Just because my books aren't selling as well as I would like them to doesn't mean that I am a rotten writer. It's not personal; it just IS.

This experience, like every obstacle, has provided a wealth of gifts and lessons to me. I am releasing attachments that have kept me from being truly at peace: attachments to material objects, to ego, and to the approval of others. Through the process of downsizing, I am letting go of anything that no longer serves me. Our basement is filled with boxes of stuff that I thought was important to me, but no longer is -- pictures, paintings, furniture, candleholders, books, and anything else that won't squeeze into our new, tiny abode. In the next two weeks, we will be selling or giving away items that have kept us mired at the bottom level of Maslow's pyramid. In this act of release, I am already feeling myself getting lighter, become less afraid, and, dare I say, becoming hopeful for the future. One of the greatest realizations I have had during this maelstrom is this: I am not my stuff. I am not my calendar, my business card, my house square footage, my piano, my family vacation, or my display of knickknacks.

This morning I realized that there was one final step for me to take to begin the journey upward: I needed to publicly share my story, warts and all. Embarrassment and ego have kept me from telling the gory details of my latest imbroglio. I was afraid of people judging me for not being the powerful woman I present myself to be. I was afraid that I would be seen as a failure, a victim, and a loser. One of the risks associated with full disclosure is the chance for those who may want to hire me or buy my book to say, "She's a nutcase! She's a nobody! Why in the hell would we want to hear anything she has to say?" However, the risk is well worth it. I need to authentically express my truth if I am to step away from the fear and back into power. It is time for me to open my kimono. Again.

I ask that you hold me in possibility, and I will do the same for you. Let's see each other climbing ever higher into that blissful place of self-realization where all of our needs are met and we can be the best of who we are. I am so very grateful for the gift of writing so I can purge the toxic thoughts that have kept me unhappy, unhealthy, and unrealized. The truth is a magical elixir that helps wipe clean all of the dirty little secrets we keep hidden away, and I am jumping back into it with gusto. My physical, mental, emotional and spiritual health are at stake. I must acknowledge, own, and even celebrate my life, even at its gunkiest. Because even at its ugliest, we are all still blessed with untold gifts. Sometimes the most painful times remind us of how friggin' awesome we truly are.

If you, like me, are living at or near the bottom of Abe's pyramid, please know that you are not alone. You are still a beautiful, magnificent, worthy, and divine being, no matter what the numbers on your check register or the credit report say. I honor you and your journey.

We Knew We Were Gonna See This

I am currently sitting at the Minneapolis International Airport, praying that the airplane on which I am about to board can outrun a raging blizzard. Yippy F#$king Skippy.

As a recent transplant from Florida to Minnesota, I am often asked why I would voluntarily choose to leave Paradise for life in the Frozen Tundra. (The word 'insane' is often used in the question.) When we packed up our worldly belongings in August and headed north, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Fast forward four months later, and I'm shivering my ass off. News Flash: This time of year, Minnesota gets cold. It gets BUTT-cold. It gets oh-shit-my-nipples-feel-like-they-are-going-to-friggin-fall-off cold. And it's not even Christmas. Jesus, what the hell was I thinking? I'm not swearing to the Lord; I'm literally asking Him.

Oh yeah, I remember. On the professional front, we moved for the career opportunities it afforded me. In only a short period of time, I have been able to generate significant new speaking gigs, and I believe it is directly attributable to being in a major metropolitan area like Minneapolis/St.Paul. I have also made some amazing connections, established growing friendships and had occasion to speak in front of large groups. These are all good things!

However, the more important reason for our reverse-migration has been the reconnection with my family and my roots. I was born in this Frozen Tundra forty years ago, and I have several family members that have been silly enough to remain living here (just kiddin', peeps!). What a joy is has been to have Thanksgiving with one of my brothers and his family, spend evenings playing cutthroat games of Rummikub with my niece who has suddenly grown into a woman when I wasn't looking, and chilling with my soul sis Susan while enjoying a glass of zin. Emma is on Cloud Nine-and-a-Half being so close the clan, and she proudly announces that her new BFF is her cousin Libby. To top it off, we get the pleasure of hosting Christmas Eve dinner at our home. Norman Rockwell we ain't, but it will be a great time nonetheless.

So, here I sit, fretting about the friggin' weather. I recall my husband quoting the James Cameron movie, The Abyss, whenever I start bitching about the cold or snow. He says, "We knew we were gonna see this". Yep, we knew that the weather was one of the drawbacks to our decision to move up north. But, you know what? No place is ideal. If you don't deal with blizzards every once in a while, you deal with hurricanes. If you don't deal with hurricanes, you deal with smog, fires, earthquakes, persistent traffic jams, outrageous real estate prices, or bad hairdos. Every place has a shitty part, no matter how you slice it. We made our decision to move to Minnesota based on intuition and heart, not number of inches of snow per year. We knew we were gonna see airport delays, snowplows, runny noses, and icy roads. But we also knew we were gonna see smiling faces on our children, friendly competitions of Apples to Apples around the fire, and houses full of laughter and love. My life is richer in every way for having come back home. When all is said and done, a blizzard every once in a while is a tiny price to pay.

But I won't be complaining when my plane lands in Sarasota.

Too Busy to Blog, but Not too Busy to Be Grateful

I have been woefully delinquent in my blogging duties -- again.

Luckily, it isn't because of some existential funk I've found myself in; rather, the reason for my absence has been the fact that I am busier than a one-armed paper hanger with my professional speaking biz! Something shifted when I went to Florida a few weeks ago, and now everything is totally jamming. Michael and I are happily working together, the phone is ringing, the emails are arriving, proposals are being signed, bank deposits are being made, and I am finding myself in my most desirable of situations: being in front of lots of peeps, sharing the Mojo.

Life is very, very good.

I have wanted to take the time to write or record a blog, but my deadlines have not allowed for them. I suppose I could have worked through the night, but my daughter and hubby would have probably frowned on it. Instead, I opted to release (most of) my guilt and happily move forward on the path that Spirit is paving for me, with balance and grace.

However, I felt it necessary to post my annual Gratitude Rant, in the spirit of Thanksgiving.

Dear Spirit, thank you so very much for all of the gifts you provide to me today and every day. I know I don't take time every day to express my appreciation, and oftentimes it takes a holiday like Thanksgiving to remind me of how friggin' kick-booty my life really is. In that light, I offer my rant for All Things Righteous in the life of Theresa Ann Rose:

* Michael and his never-ending support and love; I could write a book on how much I dig that man. Hey! Maybe I will!
* Emma and her morning cuddles, perches, and belly touches; she is, quite simply, the shiz.
* My extended family in Minnesota who I am so happy to be reconnected to
* The new friends I have made in my new/old hometown
* My old friends who haven't forgotten about me just because I am gone
* The opportunities that are presenting themselves to me, allowing me to share my stories with lots of people
* The changing seasons, reminding me of the beauty of transformation
* Newly discovered Indian, Greek, and Ethiopian restaurants that bring food to a whole new level
* Freedom
* The many dreams I have that will someday become a reality
* Jason Mraz!! (I adore you, Jason.)
* My hoop, even if I don't use it as much as I would like
* Finding the perfect pair of shoes at Opitz and spending $10 on 'em
* Walking around Lake Calhoun on a glorious Autumn day
* Finding $20 stashed in a coat pocket
* My new, fire-engine red RAV4, lovingly named "Firecracker"
* Creative, beautiful, sassy, amazing, talented women on Team Mojo
* Sleeping in on Saturdays
* When plans come together effortlessly and easily
* Shedding the fear
* Fitting into the skinny jeans once again, even if I look like a stuffed sausage
* Swing dancing with hubby
* Facebook statuses that make me smile
* Everything, absolutely everything, that makes this journey so rich and juicy

Finally, I would like to show appreciation for you, dear reader, and the support you give. It is my fervent wish that you enjoy your Thanksgiving weekend with family and friends. Remember how loved you are!

The Holiday Post-Game Report

The holidays are finally over and “normal” life has resumed. I am back on my writing perch, sipping decaf hazelnut from my favorite mug, smelling India Palace incense burning, listening to Ben Harper (”With My Own Two Hands”), and feeling groovy. There is a firestorm of information, emotion, and inspiration I want to share. I missed you guys!

Here is the highlight reel of what happened in the Rose abode over the last two weeks:

* Santa arrived as planned on Christmas Eve, bringing Emma the items she requested on her list: a long, fuzzy purple bathrobe, a fancy, “flowy” dress, and the WALL-E DVD. My inquisitive daughter got up at 2:32am on Christmas Day just to make sure that Saint Nick had arrived, eaten his two Publix sugar cookies, and brought some packages. Thankfully, Santa must have arrived just after Em had gone to sleep (even though, I am sure, he was friggin’ tired from a full day of activity and desperately wanted to get his job done ASAFP so I — oops, I mean he — could finally get to bed.)

* I taught my daughter the art of being a hardcore gamer. As anyone in my family can attest, I am a bit of a psycho competitor when it comes to games. I LOVE GAMES. More importantly, I LOVE WINNING. This Christmas, I decided to teach Li’l Miss how to kick ass and take names in boardgaming. We played backgammon and Monopoly ad infinitum, and as expected, she is a chip off the ol’ block. It pained me to let her win the first few times; soon thereafter, however, the little urchin tasted blood and went after the parental jugulars with glee. I was so proud.

* Michael and I were able to go to not one, not two, but THREE movies over the holidays! They were big people movies too! We saw The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (Brad Pitt has the yummiest tooshie in Hollywood), Slumdog Millionaire (contains a serious emotional POW! factor), and Frost/Nixon (God bless great writing and acting). While we didn’t partake in our normal movie treats of Reese’s Pieces, buttery popcorn and a vat of Sprite, we still enjoyed holding hands in the dark and dissecting the films a la Ebert/Roeper afterward.

* The three of us spent a lot of time outside, enjoying the beauty and bounty of Mother Nature in sunny Florida. Michael and I like to call our forays around the neighborhood lake as “walk ‘n talks”. Em runs ahead of us, singing songs and finding all kinds of interesting treasures, while he and I talk about major life stuff. The holiday walk ‘n talks involved sharing our big dreams and desires for the coming year (and the corresponding panic and fear that accompany them). I revealed several nasty fears over my upcoming corporate speaking engagements, promoting my book nationally, starting my new radio show (stay tuned for more info!) and writing the next book (which is soooooooo ready to get written).

* Countless other juicy things took place — enjoying delicious meals made by my beloved spouse (Risotto!), curling up with several great books (In Defense of Food by Michael Pollan), performing some much-needed decluttering, reading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban aloud to the fam, and lazily cuddling in the hammock with The Bean.

The holidays were precious! The time off was restorative! The family connection was blissful!

And now I’m ready to get back to work.

There is so much I want to accomplish in 2009. There are books to sell, speeches to make, interviews to conduct, videos to record, newsletters and Daily Doses of Mojos to create, press releases to send and articles to write. However, my most important goal for the next 365 days doesn’t involve tasks on a To-do list: it is to simply wake up each day feeling grateful and joyful, staying in that mindset for as much of the day as possible.

I want to remember that I am rich beyond measure no matter what happens or what I get done. I am so very thankful to Spirit for providing me the life of my dreams.

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(My blogs will now contain a question for your to ponder and hopefully write a reply. Please join me in a dialogue!)

What was the best thing that happened to you over the holidays?

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Visit www.TheresaRose.net to receive your Daily Dose of Mojo!