Oh, Vision Board!!!

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A good pal and fellow coach recommended I do a vision board.  I had heard of them and always sort of had the idea on my mental desktop, but I found the idea overwhelming.  I’m the guy who for years wouldn’t buy anything at a record store or book store because all of the options really stressed me out.  Well, now that 2012 is my HELLZ NO TO FEAR!! year, I am saying YES TO LOVE!, and have taken the plunge.  Folks, I have my very own board and the infinite possibilities did not make me skerrrd!!!

Now, I’m reminded of all the delights I want in my life, and having my vision board at my desk helps me to get my manifesting on every single live-long day. And, it’s sort of a work-in-progress.  I add things, remove, adjust, etc. as needed.  It has inspired me so much that, heck, I even made a video about it!  Take a look-see…  Happy manifesting!!!!

Call to Ugly Ducklings everywhere: “Stop thinking, just do your thing!”

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“…different is a cool way to be. Go with it.”  That’s what I’m talkin’ about!  I just read an article about Parisian singer/rapper Fefe who sings the praises of just going with his own flow, not worrying about what others think in order to achieve success.  This is something I’m definitely working on rocking this year!  At the end of the day, when we over think and compare and stress and let fear get in the way, it throws off our game.  DAYUM Fefe!  Merci!

Read more: http://www.theage.com.au/entertainment/music/the-french-evolution-20120106-1pnyd.html#ixzz1igzOD7FX

Delight in 2012!!

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Everything we do is either driven by LOVE or FEAR.  I recently heard this, and, Holy Bananas!  I’d never thought of it that way, but it’s freaking true!  Think about it.  The way we react to things, set aspirations, treat ourselves, treat others…the way we live, period.

So, this year, my main homework assignment is to be aware of how I approach new tasks and react to challenges in my life in order to proceed with love.  I ain’t about to be a mamby pamby and live driven by fear.  No way.

I invite you to join me on this quest to be love-driven.  What…are you chicken?!

May the next 365 days be filled with magical delights, wild success, positive energy, shining health, love and sprinkles!!!!

New Mom: No tired face and sweats necessary!

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Looking F-I-N-E when you are child-free and have all the time in the world is easy peasy…  You can go shopping, work out, spend time on hair and make-up, etc.  But, all of this does a cruel, cruel 180 once you give birth.

Making sure you find at least a little time to look good is so so so effing important as a spankin’ new mom.  I have learned that I feel a lot better, and am often even more productive, when I do a little fancy footwork and give myself some pizzaz.  Here is some stuff that has helped me:

1.)  I am sleep-deprived (are you?!), but I don’t want it to show.  In the p.m., put on some nighttime eye cream to make sure you’re hydrated when you wake up.

2.)  In the morning, while breastfeeding (for real!) I use one hand to put on some fantstic concealer under my eyes, and then a few layers of mascara so my eyes look open.  Then I put on a little blush on my cheekbones to give me some color, and some lipgloss or nude lipstick.  Total: 3 minutes of my life that make a huge frick frack difference.

3.)  Let’s face it folks, only a privileged few are able to fit into their pre-pregnancy clothes right after giving birth.  You don’t have to wear your maternity clothes, which is likely too big on you now.  Don’t nobody like spending loads of  money on stuff they’re only going to wear a few times…  This is where the magic of your local thriftstore comes in and caresses your life!  Hit the local Salvation Army, Goodwill, etc. and buy some basics in your current size:  black slacks, a couple tunics, an easy-to-wear black dress, comfortable and flattering jeans, a fitted jacket and a wide belt.

4.)  Earrings + large bracelet.  I don’t know why, but they alwayz jazz up any basic outfit.

Seriously, these lil’ things change everything!

On Being a Kooky New Mother

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Living in a very small town in southern France definitely has its dreamy moments, but carrying around my bouncing 3-month-old girl in a Mexican rebozo carrier has not been among them. Hearing French women exclaim things like, “What IS that thing?!”,  ”That poor baby!!” and “Oh la-laaaaaaaaaa, that little one must be so uncomfortable in there!” has become part of my daily life.  The first few times I heard these comments, I felt like a total a-hole who was being a horrible mother. I even lowered my eyes, and started debating buying a stroller for my little gal even though I had decided I wouldn’t until she was older.

My significant other and I also decided to co-sleep with our daughter, and were excited about this decision.  Upon sharing it with those around us, I soon learned that many of them were definitely not so keen on the idea.

After many conversations with other new (and not-so-new) moms in my life, and after reading oodles of parenting info, I have realized that there is no perfect way to be a mother–there’s only my unique way.  When it comes down to it, we have to trust our gut and go with our intuition.  It’s ok if some people don’t understand or see the value in the loveliness I feel when carrying my baby close to me so that she feels all warm and cozy during her first months on this side.  And it’s ok if certain folks think it’s bad to co-sleep because my kid will end up being “impossible” and “spoiled” and that I will likely wind up being at her beck & call (because–GASP!–I breastfeed, too).

Some people sing “Rock-a-bye Baby” to put their chitlin to sleep…  I make up words to “I Love Rock and Roll” or whatever random song comes into my noggin when it’s bedtime.  Both are ok.

I have my own kooky style as a new mother, and I’m ready to rock it.

 

The Tale of the Fake Cabbage Patch Doll {a.k.a. If it’s Real to You Then it’s Real.}

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As most 8-year olds back in ’85, I really really really wanted a Cabbage Patch Kid.  I salivated at the thought of braiding its hair, filling out the adpotion certificate, and taking care of the doll like my life depended on it.  Christmas time came, and since I was hopelessly devoted to doing my chores, getting good grades and being an upstanding home citizen, I was certain I would get one from dear ol’ Santa.

I woke up on Xmas morn’ and HOORAH!!!!!!!!!!!!, saw my magnificent platic daughter with her beautiful brown yarn hair waiting to be swept up into my arms.  It was a splendid day!  I finally had a Cabbage Patch doll!  I went to school and proudly showed my doll for show-and-tell.  A girl in my class took her from me and pulled down her dolly skivvies to look at her little bum…there was no Xavier Roberts signature.  I had no idea that *real* Cabbage Patch Kids were signed…I just knew I thought I had one, and until that moment, she had made me very happy.   The doll hadn’t changed, but my idea of her had.  With one comment, my doll had gone from hero to zero in my mind’s eye.

At home, I still loved my doll.  My mom/Santa thought it was real when she bought it for me (granted, it was at the fleamarket, which should have perhaps tipped her off, but I digress…), and I thought it was a Cabbage Patch before I was told it wasn´t.

The other day I was walking and saw what I thought was a beautiful pristine white feather, and it made me happy the rest of the afternoon.   I walked past it again in the evening and realized it was just a piece of paper.  In the end it didn’t matter because it had given me a dreamy feeling…  If an idea, goal or source of positivity brings you real happiness in your life, then no matter who tries to squash or discredit it, don’t let it happen.  Real-to-you real = REAL!!!

Joy & Pain

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I have always loved to dance, but used to be mortified at the thought of anyone seeing me bust my moves.  I would spend hours watching videos and practicing the Kid-n-Play, and that one fancy running man + the snake combo Vanilla Ice used to do, along with that left-right-left shoulder pump thing.  Despite my giant stature, high water pants and cascade bangs, I became such a masterful fancy foot, that I actually started feeling kind of cool (in the privacy of my own livingroom).  This lead to a recurring daydream:  Me in that cool floral spandex dress with shoulder pads.  The gym.  Lights down.  Music pumping.  My “jam” coming on, pushing me to really get my groove on as the entire school gathered ’round in delight, WOWed by my amazing skills.  After my performance, having that popular chola girl come up to “challenge” me to a dance duel.  Me kicking her ass, and then being invited to dance by her fine cholo boyfriend.

The school dance was approaching.  I kept practicing and had butterflies in my stomach when I thought about going.  I begged my mom until she finally said yes.  Then, the special day finally arrived.  I went to the gym, and stood against a wall, moving just a little bit to the beat.  I loved every song that was playing, but couldn’t bring myself to just go to the dance floor.  My movements started to get more and more intense, and the urge to just dance was painfully strong, but my guts were nowhere to be found.  When Rob Base’s “Joy & Pain” came on, the feeling was just too strong, and I finally broke… By “broke”, I mean, “I ran to the bathroom”, locked myself in the handicap stall (large enough to fit a wheelchair), and started to dance like a MOFO, lipping the words, “GIVE IT TO ME ROOOB BASE!!!”  An hour later, I walked out of the stall drenched in sweat, with bright red cheeks, feeling elated about doing my moves.

Today, I go to parties and weddings and dance like my life depends on it.  In photos of these events, I’m grimacing, dripping sweat (my dress even looks wet most of the time), and my arms are flailing.  Now I know that nobody at the dance would have given a rat’s ass about how good or bad I was on the floor.  And I would’ve had so much more fun dancing far away from the toilet (more space for the running man).  We all have things we love to do, or really want to do, but fear keeps us from putting the pedal to the metal, grabbing our cojones and doing them.

Next time fear stops you from doing something you’ve been daydreaming about, think of “Joy & Pain” and ask yourself how much of each this something would bring you if you flipped your fear off (yes, I’m talking The Middle Finger) and just went for it.