ellenoutloud's Blog: Life 101

I know a sure-fire system to positively change your life you can implement immediately, doesn’t cost a thing, and won’t make you fat.

(You love me now, don’t you?!)

Put your pencils down, you should be able to remember this without props. Ready?

Every day do:

1)Something New
2)Something Nice
3)Something No

This recipe absolutely changed my life. I’m just crazy enough to suggest if you follow it you can change yours too.

I’ve been incorporating these three simple ingredients into the recipe of my days for almost 25 years. When I do, I am a very happy woman. I have seen the results when I do not. Let’s take a closer look –

Something New: If you’ve ever purchased a new dress or pair of shoes you know the childlike glee that comes with your receipt. That same modicum of glee happens whenever we do something new – whether it’s acquiring something new, doing something new or behaving in a new way. NEW is what gives life the kick, the flavor, the “Wow, what IS that?”

Something Nice. If you will add some nice to your day you’ll be happier. It’s not complicated. It is delicious if you do something really nice for yourself but it tastes even better when you do something nice for someone else. Go out of your way and do something unexpectedly generous for a perfect stranger and tell me you don’t feel better. You cannot be nice and grumpy at the very same time.

Something No. Most of the time when I’m low and feeling sorry for myself it is because I’ve allowed my life to get out of balance, I’ve taken on too much, or I’ve said “Yes” when my gut said no. When I line up my “nos” with my “don’t want tos” I am a much happier chick. Try it -- “No, I can’t help with the garage sale.” “No, I’m not lending you the money.” “No, I can’t attend.” “No thank you, I hate Brussell sprouts.”

Three N’s every day. All the ingredients you need to add to turn a perfectly ordinary, pound cake of a life into the mouth-watering three-layer chocolate fudge frosted kind.

Yummmmmm!

Stir some in and Soldier On!

Ellen Lambert is a motivational speaker and writer helping folks discover, uncover and recover their own, authentic voice. On Facebook - A New Way: Radmacher Focus Phrase

An acquaintance of mine suddenly and unexpectedly announced he had quit smoking. He appeared to be quite serious. He did all the right things to go about it, too.

First, he contracted a debilitating virus rendering the whole breathing thing impossible – we’ll call that the incentive step.

Next, he blabbed to everyone on Facebook and cyber world that he had quit – let’s label that the announcement step.

Then he reaffirmed his commitment and related his progress. Why don’t we call that the affirmation step.

When he didn’t post his progress for a couple of days I figured we were in relapse. I messaged him off line to verify my suspicions. I take no comfort in being right.

Right now he is decidedly in the ashamed and embarrassed stage. I hate that for him.

It’s one thing to break a resolution, fall off the wagon, or cave on a diet. It’s a whole ‘nother thing when you’ve gone ahead and done the “Hey, Look at ME! Look at what I’m doing” proclamation. It’s so much easier to quit in private. The draw-a-crowd-and-fail part is tough! I know I’ve done it more often than I want to admit.

Which is why I can speak from a standpoint of both experience and success, he was so-o-o very close, he just left out a critical step, staying quit.

He didn’t realize that quitting is an art. The more you practice it the better you get. Which is how I’ve come to be such an accomplished bad habit stopper. Years of experience.

Quitting is also a dance – a waltz, to be sure. There’s the one, two, three, one –

My friend got the first part right; he just needs to remember the dance begins again.

One, two, three; one, two, three…

The secret to quitting? Keep dancing.

Keep dancing, stay quit, and Soldier on!

Ellen Lambert is a motivational speaker and writer helping folks discover, uncover and recover their own, authentic voice. On Facebook - A New Way: Radmacher Focus Phrase. She also rocks as a Bad-habit Quitting Coach (BHQC)

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I love the expression: “You can’t argue with success.” I always want to say, “Oh, but you can!!” I should know. I’ve done it all my life.

No matter how tried and true a system may be, my inclination is always, “Let me try it my way first.”

Resistance. It’s the Achilles heel that’s blocked my progress time and time again. It’s the dark side of my genomes, the “nobody’s going to tell me what to do” side.

I’ve never wanted to do what everyone else was doing, even when what they were doing worked. I’ve always felt I could come up with an easier, faster, better way. Do I need to tell you where that’s gotten me?

Knowing I have this tendency to recreate perfectly good wheels, I’ve had to discipline myself to do just the opposite. Rather than spend a lot of time and energy building better mousetraps I now focus on studying what the successful rat-catchers have come up with.

I’ve had to stop equating “following the leader” with “cheating.” Emulating the A-students is not the same as copying off their paper. It’s just adopting their good study habits. You still have to do the work.

So now, when my obstinate-self starts digging in my heels, both my Achilles and the 3” stiletto, I immediately repeat the words “just try it.” Just try it. Not because successful people are necessarily smarter, brighter or faster, but because they’ve found at least one way to do what I want to do that works.

If we do what successful people do and it doesn’t workout, we can always go back to the abacus and creating fire. But before we start rubbing those rocks together, maybe we should give their approach a decent shot. Sometimes tried really is true.

Use a match and Soldier on!

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Most of us spend our lives as if we have another one in the bank. -- -Ben Irwin

-- A while back a friend gave me a piggy bank - a see-through green plastic promotional item of little value. His company probably buys them by the gross. But I’ve kept it and use it as both a receptacle for my loose change and a reminder of how a life’s well-lived.

As you can see, this portable porcine is an imaginatively designed bank – with four compartments of graduating size and separate slots at the top. The compartments are labeled on the side, from smallest to largest: Save, Spend, Donate, Invest.

The slots are large enough to accommodate everything from pennies to krugerrands, with the Invest section capable of holding the most coins.

Every time I empty my purse I am reminded of all the options we have in terms of how we spend our spare change – and in a broader sense how we want to spend our lives.

It’s funny. I used to keep the pig in a closet. I couldn’t have him sitting out in plain sight – how silly would that be? But over time he’s become symbolic of how I want to live my life, so now he’s out in plain view to teach me and remind others we always have choices.

Of course there are more than four options, aren’t there? We can always opt to squander. Many folks do. But I recommend staying within the parameters set by the pig –

Saving some precious memories
Spending resources wisely
Donating time and energies to worthy endeavors
Investing in the lives of others.

That indeed adds up to a life well-lived. Who knew we could learn so much from a few ounces of clear plastic? But then, you know what they say. When the student is ready, the pig, er, teacher will come.

Soldier on!

-- Ellen Lambert is a motivational speaker and writer helping folks discover, uncover and recover their own, authentic voice. On Facebook - A New Way: Radmacher Focus Phrase. She also rocks as a Bad-habit Quitting Coach (BHQC)

Left to my own devices I really would’ve bought that $20 pirate costume on-line because it looked so cute in the picture. But instead of clicking on “Add to Cart” I made the last moment decision to read the reviews. I’m glad I did. When the size 2 and 4 reviewers complained that it ran a little small, I realized that some objects really are smaller than they appear.

Oh, I don’t always look for a second opinion, but I remember when I did. I remember well that awkward, insecure, adolescent high school stage when I valued everyone else’s opinion over my own… it lasted twenty years.

Fortunately I segued right into the “no one’s going to tell me anything” stubborn stage. It had equally awesome results.

Maybe the key to successful living is less knowing when to hold them and more about knowing when to ask for help. Or advice. Or an ear, shoulder, or similarly supportive body part.

I am all about standing on my own two feet, preferably in three inch pumps with ankle straps, but I’ve come to appreciate the wisdom in asking others if the sand I’m standing on is shifting.

Sometimes another’s experience can save you a $20 mistake, or something far more valuable.

As I’m often reminded, “it never hurts to ask.” But you know? It sure can if you won’t.

Go ahead. Ask.

And Soldier on!

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Ellen Lambert is a motivational speaker and writer helping folks discover, uncover and recover their own, authentic voice. She's also really good at giving and getting second opinons... www.ellenoutloud.com

My hairdresser plays with razors. And she loves to use them on me. Well, on the part of me that grows from scalp follicles anyway. She is the first stylist I’ve ever known that actually likes to work with my hair. In fact, she says she loves to. She gets absolutely giddy about it.

And lately, I’ve noticed something remarkable. After seeing her for about four months, for the first time in my life, I’m starting to like my hair, too.

Me. With my unruly, unmanageable, go every which way, mind of its own, refuse to be tamed, tresses. Yes. I’m still talking about my hair, not my persona. She likes my hair just the way it is. Well, just the way it is after she’s worked her magic with it and added just a few highlights to brighten it up.

She’s trying to teach me to go with what I’ve got. Put away the curling irons, step away from the flatiron, lose the heat appliances, products, and treatments, and stop trying to force my hair to behave. Or calm down.

You know, I’ve been told my whole life to calm down. And it’s funny, that’s exactly what everyone’s always wanted to do with my hair. Calm it down. You’d think by now they’d know it’s just not going to happen! Even when it does, it’s only temporary. First hint of humidity and off it goes.

Maybe it’s time to stop trying to get my locks -- or the rest of me to behave and just let them be.

Go with what you’ve got, and Soldier on!

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Ellen Lambert is a motivational speaker and writer helping folks discover, uncover and recover their own, authentic voice. www.ellenoutloud.com Also on Facebook - A New Way: Radmacher Focus Phrase. She also rocks as a Bad-habit Quitting Coach (BHQC) including withdrawal from heated hair appliances.

I wasn’t laughed at, teased, made fun of, and bullied my whole life, but I can attest that even a few of those encounters can leave some pretty deep scars.

Part of the awesome joy of growing almost all the way up, is knowing that there is nothing in the world I am likely to do or say that will provoke that kind of malice or harm anymore.

It amazes me how, if we let them, fears from the past can become fears of the present -- fear of reprisal, fear of ridicule, fear of repercussions. Sometimes we’ve been afraid for so long we’ve forgotten why we are.

When I peel back all the covers and look under my bed (everyone knows that’s where the bogeyman likes to hang) there’s nothing there. Just those cute gold sandals with the stacked Lucite heel I’ve been looking for and some dust bunnies holding a convention.

Whatever or whomever you’ve been allowing to hold you back from tilting your windmill and pursuing crazy-wild success is probably dead and gone by now. Those exes, hexes, taunters and bullies are long gone too. The bogeyman has left the building.

Run fearlessly. Go chase those dreams. Preferably in gold sandals, and Soldier on.


-- Ellen Lambert is a motivational speaker and writer helping folks discover, uncover and recover their own, authentic voice. On Facebook - A New Way: Radmacher Focus Phrase. She also rocks at outrunning Bogeymen. www.ellenoutloud.com

"The bad news is time flies. The good news is you’re the pilot." - Michael Altshuler

The third day of a three-day weekend is always a big challenge for me. The first two days resemble a typical weekend, catching up with chores, unwinding, rewinding. But the THIRD Day – it’s like a 24 hour recess, a calendared snow day.

Given my ITFD – inabilility to focus disorder – “Third Days” or “Free Days” are so chock full of potential the can seem overwhelming.

Third days are like a calligraphied invitation from the Universe to do everything I’ve been wanting to do but haven't (say it with me) “had the time.”

I always intend to accomplish more on the free days than is humanly or logistically possible. My eyes are always bigger than my stomach at the cafeteria line, and my to do list is always bigger on a holiday.

Maybe that’s the joy of the third days – not what we do accomplish, but what we might!

Enjoy the heck out of this third day, and Soldier On!

--

Ellen Lambert is a motivational speaker and writer helping folks discover, uncover and recover their own, authentic voice. On Facebook - A New Way: Radmacher Focus Phrase. She also rocks at creating mile-long ‘ to do’ lists.

I never wear white shoes after Labor Day, and no, I’m not a lemming.

While I theoretically own ever color of shoe in the rainbow, and I said, theoretically, I don’t own and don’t remember ever having a pair in white – patent leather, satin, silk or fabric.

I’m not a huge rule breaker, my sister’s always been more of the rebel; I’m just short. White on my feet makes me look even shorter. Then there’s the fact I don’t have anything white in my wardrobe.

I had my colors done many moons ago and while the jury is still out, “What color are you?” it was agreed by all three professional colorists: “Well, she certainly can’t wear white!” Apparently it makes me disappear. Huh, I thought that was what the water was for.

So, while I’m not going to be wearing white shoes or white clothes after Labor Day, Emily Post, Coco Chanel and I all encourage you to do so if you want. It seems like so many “rules” that get started and then followed, there never really was a “rule” in the first place.

Wear what you want and Soldier on!

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Ellen Lambert is a motivational speaker and writer helping folks discover, uncover and recover their own, authentic voice. On Facebook - A New Way: Radmacher Focus Phrase. She doesn’t break a lot of rules but she’s great at breaking habits and is a certified Bad-habit Quitting Coach (BHQC. www.ellenoutloud.com

I grew up in Southern California, home of “What was that?!?” “Just another earthquake.” “Oh.” We weren’t real big on disaster preparedness. It’s not like you can see them coming.

Part of the reason I moved to Texas was that Mother Nature seemed to give a little warning when she was in a havoc-wreaking mood. I liked the idea that you can actually track hurricanes and watch for tornadic conditions. I didn’t think about lightning.

My husband and I were both out of town when a random bolt hit the aerial antenna atop the roof of our weekend place. Neighbors thought it unusual we’d have a fire in our fireplace in April and took a closer look. By the time the volunteer fire fighters arrived the house was gutted. What wasn’t lost to the flames was sacrificed to the water that put them out.

We returned to a shell of foundation, chimney and framing. What didn’t burn had melted in the intense heat. Shower tiles curled up like potato chips. It was a coin toss between dozing and trying to rebuild. Amazingly, one box of keepsakes and photographs was spared, moved on a whim the weekend before to an upper closet in the room farthest from the strike. It’s the box we would have run out of the house with had we been there to do so.

Compared to so many families that lost everything this week to the wildfires rampaging through the state, our situation was minor. We counted our blessings: we were lucky no one was home at the time of the strike and that no one was hurt. We had insurance. We were able to salvage the mementos.

Since that fire many years ago, I’ve always kept a shoebox full of irreplaceable what-nots that I can grab and go should the need arise. Daddy’s dogtags, mom’s ring, ticket stubs, matchbox covers, and so on.

Hurricanes, floods, infernos. Life-reminders that only a very few things really matter. Maybe we should all keep a little shoebox handy. Just so we’ll have a little something to hang on to when the hard times hit.

Soldier on!

I confirmed this morning that I’ve now lived long enough that words I used to know the definition of have changed in application and context to the degree that I no longer know what they mean anymore.

All I wanted to do this morning was download an email attachment so I could donate one of my on-line writing/empowerment classes to an auction event for a great charity. A reasonable use of my first waking moments.

But no-o-o-o-o-o. Here’s how that went.

1)Attempt to open attachment
2)Review prompt “attachment not compatible”
3)Verify ten times attachment won’t open
4)Explore all five suggested methods for opening attachment
5)Download first option
6)Wait for “helper” program to run
7)Cancel “helper” program as it wants to hijack my homepage and add seventy-two toolbars to my system
8)Verify program was not installed
9)Go back to step 4
10)Download proscribed fix
11)Check time
12)Execute download
13)Check time, gnash teeth
14)Tell impatient unwalked puppy to hush
15)Google “compatible”
16)Open attachment
17)Wrack brain "why was I googling compatible?"
18)Loudly insist puppy SHUSH!

It wasn’t entirely a wasted effort. After opening the file I realized the whole process would be better handled by phone so I’ll make a new contact with a fine person that hosts worth charity events, AND… I learned all kinds of new definitions for “Compatible.”

See I always thought compatible had to do with whether or not you were going to get along more than five minutes with the cute guy, freshmen year from World Civilizations class. Or marital harmony. Here’s the definition I found: “capable of cross-fertilizing freely or uniting vegetatively.” Well maybe I wasn’t so far off…

My point is – we often start out with good intentions and then the world intervenes and it’s easy to get off track. Sometimes it takes a little time and effort to execute the original plan.

Let me encourage you to focus, stay on track, and Soldier on!

--Ellen Lambert is a motivational speaker and writer helping folks discover, uncover and recover their own, authentic voice. At least she is when she isn’t tracing down obscure definitions of common words or similarly distracted. She is especially helpful to those afflicted with ITFD (Inability to Focus Disorder) www.ellenoutloud.com

Everyone remembers the day (or days) they got married. Well except maybe Britney Spears. But I’ll wager not many people remember the day before they got married in startling detail.

I do.

It was all set for the twelfth of September in Juneau, Alaska aboard Holland America’s Vollendam. We sailed from Vancouver on the 10th and I remember wishing my intended had not turned on the television so early the first morning at sea. He wasn’t even watching it; he was out on the stateroom’s balcony when the first reports came in about a plane hitting one of the Twin Towers.

Like the rest of the country, we watched the news all day. The Captain was generous in keeping us apprised of what was happening but he made no promises about the wedding. Aircraft were grounded and ships were prohibited from docking under the tight security. Passengers were not allowed on or off the vessel. It appeared we wouldn’t be able to get the marriage license in Juneau, nor would the magistrate be able to board to marry us.

In the end we were granted permission and the ceremony was performed, albeit in more somber and serious fashion than anticipated.

The events of 9/11 brought the events of 9/12 into laser-sharp focus – as if the Great Lab Tech turned the power up on the Cosmic Microscope. Things became unimportant, events became precious, and loved ones became priceless. With great tragedy came clarity.

Soldier on.

Here name was Emily and she was my second grade nemesis, a brown-haired bully assigned to the bolted-down student’s desk beside mine. Once she sunk her verbal talon’s into my soul there was no escaping her. She got a huge rush from name-calling and she was very, very good at it.

Her opening salvo was the word “conceited.” She tested it first for effect: “Are you conceited, Ellen?” I didn’t even know what the word meant but it had to be bad. My silence was all the coaxing she required.

“El-len’s con-ceit-ed, Ellen’s con-ceit-ed,” she’d sing, in that annoyingly effective, crowd-drawing whinetune, I can still hear it. Five syllables, a perfect candence, repeated over and over and over.

The worst part, aside from the abject humiliation of being her target, was that she was so especially successful at orchestrating a choir -- second-graders sing really well.

That life lesson, though flawed, stuck. Many years passed before I realized that my internal naysayer, my kitchen witch, closet critic, anti-egomaniac had a name. Emily.

Emily’s the one, in various incarnations throughout my life that said aloud or whispered in my ear “Just who do you think you are?” I’m guessing you have an Emily too.

For years I tried to make sure no one could ever sing Emily’s song to me again. I buried talents, eschewed accolades, hid my light under every bushel I could find. I still look over my shoulder when I mention an award or an accomplishment.

Such mixed messages we get through life, huh? “Toot your own horn,” “Stand up for yourself." "Sit down and be quiet.”

Perhaps the secret is knowing which ones to attend to and which ones to tune out. Sometimes you have to turn your psychological iPod way up, sing real loud and just drown them out.

Soldier on, and remember, Emily’s not the only one who can sing!


-- Ellen Lambert is a motivational speaker and writer helping folks discover, uncover and recover their own, authentic voice, and she can sing really, really loud. On Facebook - A New Way: Radmacher Focus Phrase and www.ellenoutloud.com.

I started learning Spanish in the third grade. I’ve been starting to learn it ever since. Usually we would watch the lessons on television. We were taught entire dialogues – complete conversations involving two speakers and a riveting topic like “the Library.”

We were on the edge of our seats!

Okay, captivated we weren’t but we were certainly captive, so I am happy to report that to this day I can still recite some of those conversations in their entirety and I can tell you all about both the biblioteca and the baño. “Hola, Pablo. ¿Donde esta el baño?”

Apparently those creating the curriculum thought if we knew our way to the library and the bathroom we could make it in this world.

Perhaps they were right.

While I continued my Spanish studies through High School I never mastered the language. I learned just enough to be dangerous, like the time I was asking to introduce the Mayor at a well-attended civic event.

I began, in Spanish, trying to apologize for my poor grasp of the language, how embarrassed I was, but how thrilled the Mayor was to be there and how much he loved being with them today.

That’s when I learned that just because words are similar they don’t always mean the same thing. What the audience heard, as I learned when the laughter subsided, was:

“Forgive us so much, the Mayor is most delighted I am pregnant with him talking to you today as much as he loves me.”

It probably would have been better if they’d asked me to do the ribbon-cutting on the new library… or the bathroom.

My point? Sometimes folks don’t always hear what you meant to say. It’s always good to ask for feedback; just to be sure you’ve made yourself clear and that your message is getting through.

¿Es Verdad?


--Ellen Lambert is a motivational speaker and writer helping folks discover, uncover and recover their own, authentic voice. On Facebook - A New Way: Radmacher Focus Phrase. She has a Masters degree in Speech Communications and stays busy explaining what she meant in one language or another.

Yesterday, against my will, I attended an all-day computer training class. I really, really didn’t want to go – but the class on “Watching Paint Dry” was full.

I still remember the last Excel class I took. It was circa 1990, right after they took my abacus away and Microsoft introduced its 3-pack office processing tools. The doctors assured me that in time, the memories would fade, but the scars might last forever.

So I wasn’t exactly all-aquiver when I frog-marched through the ballroom doors at the Holiday Inn for another go. As I walked in the room with the 14 requisite conference tables, I felt the first hive. But then I noticed there wasn’t a computer in sight. “Cool,” I thought. This must be the Sherwyn-Williams class!

To my delight, the course designers at Fred Pryor figured out some folks don’t enjoy torture so they developed an virtually painless, fast-paced, all visual/conceptual training process.

It was great and I learned at least a dozen new tricks and tools to do my spreadsheets faster and easier! Better still, the instructor was fabulous – funny, animated, exuberant – it was likely having Jerry Seinfeld teach you Latin!

I learned three life lessons in that ballroom yesterday:

1) Dreading gets you no-where. The things you fear the worst are never as bad as you imagined;

2) Over time, most everything gets easier;

3) Any task or situation, even teaching or taking an Excel seminar can be fun if you make it that way.

Life doesn’t have to dull, or dreaded. Soldier on!