ellenoutloud's Blog: courage

When I was a little girl I was afraid of everything. Trains, lima beans, playground equipment. My second grade teacher sent home a note to my parents saying I was riddled with anxieties. Gee, y’think? In their effort to protect me from the big, bad, scary, world my parents made me afraid of most of it. If you never get the chance to skin your knee you won’t learn that you’ll survive it.

Just for the record? I’m still not wild about spiders, bees, bridges, and certain vegetables, but they don’t terrorize me. I know from experience I can survive the bite/sting/crossing/swallowing. I’ve wrestled with those rascals and lived to tell about it.

There was a time I used to live in fear of losing my Dad, my husband, my job. But once you’ve faced them -- lost the parent, survived the breakup, bombed the interview, lost a job or struggled to find one -- you realize these events are survivable and their power is diminished. Less and less frightens me now. I’ve earned my merit badge in resilience. As I result, I’ve become a good “try-er”.

I’m not saying I’m ready to bungee jump, zipline, or parasail just yet, but I haven’t ruled them out either. I haven’t attained daredevil status but I am decidedly curious and willing. I embrace new now. In fact, as time goes on my threshold for “same old, same old” has worn so thin I become downright cranky with status quo.

I am struck by how little time we have on this sphere and how much I haven’t seen or done and I want to explore as much of it as I can, while I can. This is no time to sit back and watch. Sports legend Jackie Robinson said it best: “Life is not a spectator sport.” Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go find a jungle gym to climb.

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Have a great week, BHW! Hope everyone finds one new thing to try this week, one fear to conquer, one beauty to behold. e

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In this age of nevermind, no thank you, self-absorbed, gave-at-the-office, just did my nails, wish I could help, if only I'd known, apathetic, uninvolved, ask me next time, lackadaisical, something came up, what-oil-spill? - excuse-ridden climes, we need a good dose of Churchill, Don Quixote, and brave-hearted women.

We need more tireless, unsung, unwavering spirits that get up, show up, volunteer, caregive, teach, exhort, and participate -- souls that fill the void, stand in the gap, hold their ground, offer their voice, wait in line, do their part, and serve and keep serving even when no one is looking.

Unrelenting is the not-giving-up part when life gets too hard and giving in seems the better option. It's the still doing it day-after-day-after-day-after-day part, when leaving is easier than staying. It's the dedication to the process as much as the outcome. The tenacious spirit that says "I will" when the world says, "you can't". It's the immoveable heart that answers "give it up" with, "not just yet". It is the passion that not only roars: "I am not giving up", but the one that whispers, "and I am not letting you, either."

copyright 2010 ellenoutloud

I confess. I am directionally-challenged. I am completely bereft of a which-way ability, my internal compass has a glitch. This has caused me to live a life of zag over zig, left over right, there not here. Unfortunately, I am a natural-born leader as well which only magnifies my handicap. Regardless of where I am going with a group, I will charge ahead in my confident “This way, follow- me-stride” I’ve perfected.

There’s usually a small time lapse before I realize that I’ve either chosen the wrong course or that my followers are no longer behind me – well,, still behind me, just headed the other way 180 degrees. Sadder still? Those that have known me any length of time, loyal and devoted as they are, automatically head the opposite direction of any path I set. Sigh. That used to hurt my feelings.

Looking back over my life that could explain why I’ve made many of the choices I’ve made. Given the easy way or the hard way it seems I’ve always forged headlong towards the more difficult option. Not Frost’s “Road Not Taken”, we’re talking the hardest possible route to navigate. Guess I figured I’d learn more that way. It’s okay, I can do an “about face” with the best of them. And, afterall, the moonbeams are well worth the occassional wall.

Copyright 2010

(partial lyrics) The Hard Way Every Time
Written by - Jim Croce

Yeah, I've had my share of broken dreams
And more than a couple of falls
And in chasin' what I thought were moonbeams
I have run into a couple of walls
But in looking back at the places I've been
The changes that I've left behind
I just look at myself to find
I've learned the hard way every time

For the better part of my life I’ve been waging a battle between the “oh, let’s not make waves, what would people think, calm down, wuss-me” and the full-speed-ahead warrior-woman who lives life large, fierce, and loud! Guess who won?

I come by it naturally. My father was a warrior. A multi-decorated World War II bomber pilot who had but one style, INTENSE! He lived every second of his life from his youth until his official retirement when he hung up his spear and died. Oh, he persisted on the planet for another 25 years, but he never lived another day. Take away one’s spear and you’ve taken their soul.

One of his favorite expressions was: “Milk it or Drive it”. He used that at full basso-profundo, most often behind the wheel, but he’d blurt it anywhere someone wasn’t moving ahead fast enough to suit him – I thought it was great. I didn’t realize it would become one of my primary themes later in life.

Milk it, drive it, DO SOMETHING. I get it. The behavioral paralysis of fellow earthlings makes me crazy. I came across a quote by noted business philosopher Jim Rohn that I just adore: “If you don’t like where you are, change it! You’re not a tree.”

Throughout my postings you will feel my spear prodding you from behind, crying “DO SOMETHING”. That is the underlying secret to all life lessons – isn’t it? DOSOMETHING. Right or wrong, risk, fail, succeed, fall flat, screw up, start again, by DO SOME THING. It is the no thing that will kill your spirit.

So, let me ask you: Where’s YOUR Spear?

Speaking loudly comes easy for me. I’m a booking agent’s favorite – no microphone or further amplification required. Meeting room or convention hall, they can hear me in the back rows!

From the time I first started living large in my crib, I had naturally high-decibeled vocal chords, which I exercised often. The “voice”.

I had a solo in the elementary school Christmas program. I put everything into it, loudly. This didn’t go over so well with the popular 4th grade teacher who told her classes I’d put on an “embarrassing display”, calling attention to myself that way. The ridicule was endless. And this explains the competing forces that have worked on me from conception – don’t call attention to yourself and let your light so shine.

Then one day I learned the annoying voice that could reach the rafters was one of my greatest assets -- a gift. That ability, coupled with a patently dramatic persona led to a successful speaking career.

Guess we all need to find our own galaxies where our talents and the world’s desire for them magically collide. I wonder how many of us give up on the search due to a poor reception early on?

All I know is at this stage of my life my desire to conform is greatly outweighed by my realization that I have blown enough chances hiding in the wings.

There were many opportunities in my life to have stepped on to center stage. I trusted those that loathed me with my future. But as long as there’s a breath there’s a chance to make an entrance.

So, let me ask you – Isn’t that your cue?

In just a few minutes, (yes, really!) I’m going out for my morning wog. You read that right – wog. I can’t really call it my walk, because after two months (yeah!) I can now move a little faster than that. And, I can’t call it a jog because, well, c’mon, let’s not get ridiculous!

So, I wog. I wog regularly now, -- a little over two miles every morning. So, let’s review. I have successfully wogged 56 out of the past 58 mornings. I’m not going any further, but I am going a little faster. It still isn’t very pretty to watch but the community security guard no longer follows me in his car and residents no longer ask me if I need help.

Progress!

Those that know me know this wogging thing of mine is fairly uncharacteristic. I am not a natural athlete. Like most of us, I tend to spend most of my time doing what I’m fairly good at. I don’t like to devote a lot of energy to . . . well, let’s keep this positive!

My point? I may never move like the cool guys in Chariots of Fire (or cry like Demi Moore, but I digress). I may still scare the neighbors on my morning jaunts but by golly I’m out there!

Maybe there’s a life-lesson here somewhere? It may not always be pretty, but at least we’re out there. Or, out loud!

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Check in tomorrow when I'll share with you three "N's" that can dramatically improve your life every single day!

Happy Monday Bravehearts!

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It’s been more than twenty years since I heard the simplest advice on improving my life day by day. It was SO simple that I’ve been prone to take it for granted -- forgetting about it for stretches of time, only to re-discover it, implement it, and once again reap the benefits from it.

During an especially “bad patch” following the break-up of my marriage, I sought some help from a licensed clinical social worker. After listening thoughtfully the counselor offered this: “I want you to start doing Three N’s every day.” I was relieved ‘exercise’ starts with an ‘e’.

“I want you to begin by doing something nice for yourself every single day,” he began.

Immediately all I could think of were big-ticket items like shopping or travel – activities I wasn’t in an economic position to enjoy. That's not what he meant.

He offered examples like drinking coffee with cream and sugar if that’s how I really enjoyed it. And eating lunch outside. Wearing the special occasion outfit for no occasion at all. Stealing twenty minutes to read a favorite book. Napping. Calling an old friend. Springing for an ice cream cone. He encouraged me to compile a list of a couple of dozen nice-ities I could choose from any day.

Knowing I would be posting this today, I wanted to be sure I practiced what I preached and was surprised to admit that I’d once again stopped making this simple “N” a conscious, daily practice.

So yesterday I went all out and added cinnamon to my coffee. I just love it but seldom stop and consciously take the extra eleven seconds to go ahead and do it. A free and happy extravagance, it was very, very nice!

Strong, brave hearted women are the first to be kind to others. Today I challenge you to do something nice for yourself. I’d love to hear what you did!

-- Tomorrow: The Second of 3 N’s

Yesterday I suggested we could improve our lives day by day by just incorporating a little “N” in our lives and offered the first of three “N”s in the recipe: Do something nice for yourself everyday. Today let’s look at the second in the series, something new!

Think about how you feel when you wear a new outfit for the very first time, right after you’ve snipped off the tags, and put it on. Doesn’t that feel wonderful? I’m of the opinion it’s not just that we look fabulous, which we undoubtedly do, (must be the sizing they put in new garments), but we’ve never seen ourselves quite like that before.

On an impulse last week I had my hair cut super short. Not G.I. Jane short, but, pretty darn short. While I’m still adjusting to the way it makes my forehead look a foot high and accentuates every line I’ve accumulated in the past five years, on the whole? I like it! It’s so different – so altogether new!

I still get that fresh-startled reaction whenever I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror I'll pass. I get that same reaction whenever anyone else sees me as well: “Oh! You cut your hair!” (I’m not the sharpest knife in the drawer but I think that’s polite-speak for “What were you thinking?)

Regardless of the result, my point is – Nothing shakes up same-old, same-old like something new. So fresh-startle yourself today. Take a new route to work, jog a different path, wear a color you never wear, paint your fingernails blue. Dye your hair, wear a wig. Try a new restaurant or sample a food you’ve never tried. See a movie that’s just come out, go to the store and buy a magazine that looks interesting but you never pick and go home and read it!

The moment you’re feeling stuck-in-a-rut, your life is boring, nothing’s ever going to change, change it up! Go ahead, see for yourself, go find some new for you!

I'd love to hear what new you brought in to your day!

A recovering people-pleaser, one of the hardest things any one has ever asked me to try was to say “No” to a request without offering any explanation. No “why” allowed. Aaaack! As one who has worked overtime justifying her every action, decision, heck, existence, how could I possibly lob a big old “No” out there all by itself?

I encourage you today to take the coolest, funnest, cheapest self-esteem boosting, day-making, life-improving step and just say “No” to something. It doesn’t have to be a big thing, mind you. Small things count. Just decline an opportunity. Pass on a proposal. Bow out of an invitation, skip dessert.

I know, I know. This idea does seem to go against a lot of what we typically see on our postings here. Normally we say affirm life, say YES! Jump in, invite, accept, go for it, and just do it. And here I am suggesting the opposite? YES! Say, NO!

Give yourself permission, once a day, to let that little “N” just fall from your lips, and see what happens. I was delighted to discover the world did not stop revolving, my friendships remained intact, and I remained gainfully employed. It’s funny what happens when you replace resentment with resolve. I’m a much nicer person when my gut and my voice are in concert.

One of my all time favorite movie lines comes from the Pirates of the Caribbean. It's a classic: "I am disinclined to acquiesce to your request". In other words, "no".

What an empowering word.

I’d love to hear what you said no to today.

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What used to be a windowsill full of positive-thinking books in my bathroom now fills two floor-to-ceiling bookcases and a four-shelf stand in my guest bath. And sometimes, I admit, as my eyes scan those titles and spy words like: positive, optimistic, success, and courage – in my mind I’ve tossed them to the floor. I do so love sweeping, dramatic gestures
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Okay. I am making some progress. I guess. At least I recognize that hurling self-improvement tomes to the tile is not the best use of the material, but sigh, I get so weary of the work. Somewhere between those huge leaps forward and baby steps backward are long, long sessions mired in the mud of same old, same old, same me, same me. I want to graduate, dang it! When do I get the tassle, cap, and gown in self-help!

One of my dearest friends is a highly successful sales manager and motivational speaker. One of his favorite stories compares a salesperson to a gopher.

A gopher, day after day after day after day plods forward. In complete darkness, that gopher burrows, furrows, and digs dirt out of his way, always going forward. After a while, after endless days of digging dirt and facing dirt, the gopher, and arguably the salesperson, loses enthusiasm for the task at hand, discouraged and unable to sense that any progress has been made. What you have to do, Joe will say, is pull that gopher out of his hole, dust him off, turn him around, and let him see how far he’s come.

Wow!!!! Look how FAR we’ve come! ! !

I learned how to do a handstand in a swimming pool today, and a frontward and a backward somersault too! (I’ll pause now for applause)

After I finished reveling in my success, I took a moment to ask myself how it was that I could learn something so new, so fun, so untried at this stage of my life?

As it happens, my teacher is not only a gifted swimming instructor, she’s also a dear friend who cares about me and expected me to succeed. She hasn’t known me very long and hasn’t developed a catalog of all the things I can’t do – she’s of the mindset that I can do anything.

The right person, at just the right time, can make you believe that about yourself. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to move on to the high dive!

The last time I painted I was five and I believe I used my fingers. I’ve never been good at art – wait, let me rephrase that! I have been TOLD I am not good at art several times in my life.

I believe it was in second grade that the kind-spirited teacher gathered her class around saying: “Oh, no, look what Ellen did,” like I’d made a different kind of mess than my art project.

Then there was the time we were crafting the ubiquitous clay ashtrays – I had no idea that the clear goop we covered our dough with would turn brown in the kiln, nor that any spots I missed would be glaringly obvious, nor that the teacher would say: “Well, we can get rid of Ellen’s sad attempt.”

And how could I forget the Christmas ornament? It was an ephemeral, fragile, flour and paste-covered string thing. I thought mine was beautiful. As I got off the school bus and handed it to my Dad he had it crushed before I could get out: “Lookie what I made”. He said he was sorry, “I thought it was trash”.

Needless to say, I haven’t had a strong yen to try anything “art-y” again. But the same friend that could teach me to somersault underwater has a lot of patience in the painting department as well. You see above the results of my efforts. It made me enormously happy, and may I just say? Wow! Lookie what I made!

I would love to hear your success stories!
ellenoutloud.com

I was at an eight year old’s “coach-pitch” baseball game recently – they’re at the stage where the goal is just to master some fundamentals like stopping the ball, running to first, etc. I watched as one kid got a great hit, but amidst all the cheers, hollered instructions, and clumsy fielding, about halfway to first base he just stopped. Paralyzed.

“Go! Go! Go!” The coaches yelled. “Don’t Let Up!”

In the recesses of my memory I hear a coach’s voice saying the same words to me – “Don’t let up”.

I was a most physically-unfit junior high schooler when the President decided to launch the campaign to change me and others of my chubby, book-wormy ilk. Sheer torture. Running, situps, pull-ups.

Unable to keep up with my peers, or even measure marginally on the percentiles -- I would usually stop before time expired. If I couldn’t do it right I wasn’t going to do it at all. Stopwatch in hand the coach would say, “C’mon, there’s still time! Don’t quit now. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

At the ballgame, one of the parent-people went over to the player that had done the deer-in-the-headlight move and been thrown out. The adult said, “You never know what’s going to happen, that’s why you have to just give it all you got and keep going, just keep going, otherwise you will never find out what you could have done. That guy dropped the ball, if you had just kept going you would have been safe and maybe even gotten a run.”

I wonder how often we stop just short of the base? How many times we quit because we think we can’t perform well enough to matter. We need to be reminded that you never know what’s going to happen and to just give it all we’ve got. There’s a lot of wisdom in little league.

I’d love to hear how you’re not letting up!

For my 7th birthday I received a Charlie McCarthy doll. Sort of ironic since I felt like a ventriloquist’s dummy most of my youth. My family members were interjectors and speakers-for. Whenever someone asked me a question, one of them would answer.

I spent a lot of time moving my mouth inaudibly – sort of a human gasping guppy. My father, in particular, had a booming voice that was virtually uninterruptible. I spent a lot of time "edgewise", trying to get the proverbial "word in". Funny how those patterns are ingrained and I still catch myself doing the silent mouth-moving thing.

The upside of all this is I have become a fairly good listener. I think listening is huge, I’ve spent more time teaching that skill than almost any other in the field of interpersonal communication. It is probably the single greatest gift we can give to another person – to let them feel heard. It is a way of imbuing others with significance. A way of saying: “Hey, I hear you, I am listening to you, you are important enough for me to attend to”.

As a writer, I love words more than almost anything – I love to use them, to read them, to speak them. I can think of countless word recipes to convey devotion and affection, but it has been my experience that usually the most loving thing I can do for another is to listen. Perhaps our loudest “I Love You” is silence.

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For as long as I can remember I have wanted Martha Stewart or some domestic goddess maven of her ilk to come to my home and sort out my closets.

Now I’m not saying I’m a candidate for “Hoarders” but I do have closet-issues. Big time. My wannabe walk-ins aren’t so much a collection of outfits as they are shrines to happy memories. “Ah, there’s my drill team uniform. Look! My I Love Lucy costume! There, that black dress I wore a lifetime ago when I went out with whats-his-face.”

I’ve identified some garments so closely with an event it’s difficult to throw them away – it’d feel like tossing the fabric would toss the memory as well?

Sometimes I think we hang on to things way past their expiration date just because they made us feel good at some point in our lives. When we see the thing-we-hang-on-to it evokes a memory.

I realized recently that my entire home had become a scrapbook of happy memories – not entirely a bad thing – but stay with me – it had become a collection of my best PAST days. There was no future in it.

This past weekend my friend from California stayed with me and spent one whole day rearranging and “re-purposing” my “stuff”. Chairs and tables were moved around, the clutter on the walls taken down, sorted through, culled, tossed.

When she was done – the look and feel of my home was completely different. The walls were barer, the floor space greater, the visual effect calmer. No longer does my personal space pay homage to the woman I once was, it honors the one I am to come.

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I would love to hear what one thing in your life you could re-purpose!

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