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What an Amazing Day!

Sort of an ordinary day, really, nothing very unusual, but I guess that’s what I love about it–because I get to appreciate it. To live it and enjoy it and how does it get any more amazing than that?

In other ways, it was sort of an “out of the ordinary” day. Hubby and I have been at this hard for a only a couple months now–the tortillas and salsa business, I mean. It’s been about 6 months since he left his job to dive head first into finally pursuing the food business that we’ve been dabbling in for years.

We rocked it at the Mexican Pavilion of Folklorama this past summer and have been doing farmers markets and pop-ups ever since. We are doing really well, people are loving the product and we are receiving a very warm welcome to the market. So much so that we have formulated our business plan and we’re going after funding to build our own kitchen so we can scale up and expand our reach.

This weekend we attended three Christmas markets, one on Saturday and two on Sunday. We had two the weekend before that and one during the week. This meant a LOT of production time. For now, we make everything by hand; needless to say we are tired and ready for a good rest, and that’s what feels so great about today.

Today, we managed to pull off great sales at two busy markets thanks to help from our kids and a really great friend. Even dealing with a power outage this morning, (thank God we had everything laid out the night before and everything we needed to make our fresh samples in the morning!), we were cool, calm and collected.

We almost sold out of tortillas at one location, only two half-dozen packs left, and sold out of quesadillas at the other location. I picked up food on the way home and once home, we realized that the kids had done all the chores we set out for them, we came home to a tidy house and had time to enjoy dinner all together, play a game, watch a movie and get to bed at a decent hour. Simple pleasures that make life grand!

And that is why today is such an amazing day!

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Lucky

It’s the sweet simple moments, moments that I am so fortunate to experience often; my daughters laughing together or doing cartwheels in the living room; or watching my artsy girl quietly drawing, coloring and creating at the table while I work in the kitchen.

My heart swells, and I find myself asking, “how did I get so lucky?!” And Myself answers quickly, “It’s not luck. You fought damn hard for this. You paid for it with blood, sweat and tears; sleepless nights and silent prayers; promises whispered to God in the depths of your heart. No, it’s not luck Babe, it’s the life you made.”

I’m sure I had my own moments of doing cartwheels in the house, or climbing the walls as a kid. I know I had fun moments, building forts and playing all sorts of games with my sister, and with family. But it feels like someone else lived those moments. A whole part of me fell away… drifted into another lifetime; I vaguely remember my childhood.

I know that I have wonderful memories of my grandma’s farm. In the summer, waking up with the sun shining early, all kinds of birds singing their own songs in the morning and all throughout the day. I remember the fridge/freezer she kept in the garage with all her borscht and headcheese on one side and all the Popsicles, Revel-O’s and Freezies on the other side. I remember “sock-hops” and airbands at school, book orders, and Barbies. I remember Christmas with cousins–perogies with ham, farmer sausage and cream gravy. Swimming at the public pool in town, road trips to Mexico every year, piñatas and late night parties.

I remember these things; I know they happened, but the sweetness of them seems so far away, clouded through a fog of never feeling heard as a child; not being allowed to feel or express myself, heaps of shame foisted upon me what seemed like daily (about what? for what? why? I’ll likely never know–just for being, I guess); bullied and ostracized at school, my family falling apart, innocence lost too young–or rather not lost but buried under the weight of forced maturity and responsibility.

I find myself asking, “Are my kids living a ‘normal’ life?” Does anyone? What would a ‘normal’ life even feel like? Are there people who grow up without feeling guilty and ashamed on a daily basis? Is this a generational thing? I can’t help but wonder if I’m doing a good job. I have done a great job of working through so much of that “trauma”, stuff I didn’t even realize was ‘trauma’. In a way, I’m still not even sure it was trauma… it’s just part of life, isn’t it? It’s helped shape me, helped me become who I am today.

Either way, I am vigilant. I watch over my home and my heart. I watch over my kids hearts and my husbands heart. I don’t want anything to steal their joy. The warmth of a life well-lived. I don’t want anything to sour life’s sweet little moments.

I LOVE these little moments, moments when I can quietly clean my kitchen and watch and listen to my kids just being kids, being and expressing themselves. I hope that they will be able to remember and reminisce together about these times. I know I cherish all of these little moments, when I get to soak in the simplicity of life, to be Myself and be in the moment, and know that I’m so fucking lucky!

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Motherhood

I’m cleaning tables at a cafe where I volunteer regularly and there’s a couple moms with their little ones. One of them is about to nurse her baby. It’s a little baby, still in that “feed me right now” frantic stage. Not crying, or even making a fuss, but as a mom having been there many times, if she doesn’t get the latch down right away, things could become a lot more frantic, real quick!

Don’t get me wrong, I am so grateful for the time I had to be with each of my girls, but I do not miss those frantic moments, sore nipples, wondering if people are watching me, wondering if I’ll ever feel like I’m getting it right. Oh my goodness, so many thoughts went through my head in those moments, but mostly it was the fear of failing, of getting it “wrong”.

Motherhood brings up a lot, I guess parenthood in general, but since I’m only a mom and I can only relate from my own experience, I’ll just talk about motherhood. No matter how confident you were before, you suddenly start to wonder if you’re “doing it right”, “getting it right”. Suddenly all the things you judged your own mom for not having done better become crystal clear and you find yourself wondering how she was able to do everything she did. Suddenly my own mom seems superhuman… Or is that just me?

Do other women feel this way? Do we all ask ourselves these questions?

It’s been a few years. I’ve had four babies. I’ve learned a few things, most of the time I still feel like I have a lot to learn. Mostly, what feels best is that I’ve learned about myself.

When I find myself worrying that I’m “getting it wrong”, I remind myself that my kids came to Me. They could have been born to any other mom, but they came to me because I have exactly what their souls were also looking for when they came to this life. I remember that it must have been the same for me and then traumas don’t feel like traumas anymore because I know I was exactly where I needed to be to learn what I need to learn. To grow and evolve and offer a different lesson to myself, to my family and essentially to the world.

I’ve learned that I’m amazing in my own way. I may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I have an energy that draws people to me, other people who are also looking for growth, people who are not afraid of challenges and not afraid to challenge me to grow as well.

Sometimes letting go is hard, but I have an amazing capacity to forgive and be compassionate. Mostly, it’s hard to let go of guilt, that it’s somehow my fault, that I could have done better. Maybe I could have, but it’s also ok to make mistakes and to love myself through that. I apologize and take responsibility when I’m wrong. I look to innerstand which button got pushed and how can I soften that trigger; what is it actually touching that hurts? I examine myself and ask if, when I “got it wrong”, was I BEing in my highest integrity? Was I operating out of love? And if the answer is Yes, it can’t possibly be wrong. If the answer is no, I look to come back to Love. Come back to the Authoritative Love that is my guiding principle, my way of BEing. It’s all I can do and It. Is. Enough.

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A Poem

If I had you by my side
What would I do?
You would see me
I would see you

A thread as old as time itself
Connects us at the heart
There is no end
There is no start

Time, it passes
And yet stands still
One moment or a lifetime
I never get my fill

Your thoughts at times call out to me
They stir me to my soul
A dream, a whisper, a chance
The fleeting glance we stole

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He’s a Viking

My mentor, Kelly Notaras, (ok, she’s not my mentor, but I’m just going to pretend because it sounds fancier and because I took her writing class and bought her book and she’s fabulous), says it’s not a writing practice if you’re not writing. So, for today, because it’s been a good, long, full day, I’m just going to write about something light. Just for fun. Just for practice.

I’m going to do this post, and likely a series of other posts, as stream of consciousness style so that I can just let the thoughts flow and practice writing.

My husband swears he was a Viking in another life. Well, actually, sometimes he also says he’s a viking in this life. He is not Vikingly in stature. In fact he is short, dark and handsome. But still, he likes to tell new people that we’ve only just met that he’s half Mexican and half Scandinavian. He loves to joke like this and I always make it obvious that he’s joking because I can’t help but laugh. Though I have to wonder now if this is a relief for people who feel like they can’t exclaim, “Really?!” in great surprise, out of politeness and yet that is exactly what they would love to do.

It’s ok because I’m pretty sure I was Jamaican in some other lifetime, at least that’s the way I would have it. I would be jammin’ with Bob Marley, or at least with my friends at his concerts while we sit on the beach banging tambourines or smoking pot. I definitely lived somewhere hot and in the sunshine, none of this cold winter weather!

How many lifetimes have I lived? How many more will I live? Is there ever a home-coming time when I finally get to just enjoy my graduation?

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Exactly What I Wanted

There are times when I feel like I’m failing, or not “good enough”. But lately, I have really come to the realization that I am doing exactly what I wanted to do.

Sometimes I would get frustrated with myself and think “If I’m so determined, diligent and hardworking, why don’t I have more clients or why am I not making more money?” for example. Or, not so much now, (not since I had my West Nile experience), I used to think, “I wanted to be a mom for as long as I can remember and now that I am, I feel like I’m not good at it or I feel guilty for not enjoying it more?” More than what? What was I comparing it to?

When I was making money in a career, I was wishing to be a full-time mom. When I became a full-time mom and caretaker of my home, I felt guilty for not being more career focused and bringing in more money. What was going on here? The common denominator was my mindset and thinking I needed to be something more.

A dear friend of mine from my middle school years helped me realize a couple years ago that I am already doing exactly what I set out to do since I was young. He said “Look at everything you’ve done, you went to school, you got your education, you’ve had your career, you’re raising a beautiful family as an awesome wife and mother. You are exactly the way I knew you would be since we were kids!” I had to take a step back and realize he was right.

The thing is, I was so focused on the family I had lost (when my parents split up and my world came crashing down), and how I had always “messed everything up” and “gotten it all wrong”. I was just thinking about how I always had to be better and do better, I was so focused on fixing that I hadn’t even stopped to realize that I, along with my husband and God’s guidance, I had built the very thing I set out to––a family; a strong, beautiful family.

Then, yesterday, my husband took the day off work so we could take some time to celebrate my birthday together. We didn’t do anything extraordinarily special, we went grocery shopping together (something we used to do when we first married but hadn’t done in years just for practicality), and we had a long lunch together. I was telling him that I used to feel guilty for not “working harder” at something that brings in money, but that I have now realized that we have the life we have because I have deliberately created margin in our lives for peace. He has the ability to focus on his career and how it can bless us because he does not need to worry about what’s going on at home or the well-being of his children and the state of our family because I have the time and space to do that. And we were able to take this day off to do simple things with no pressure, just peace, because we have been deliberate about creating it in our lives.

And then, I remembered what I had in my heart, close to 5 years ago after our youngest was born––I was on the cusp of a career change because destiny was calling me. I told myself that I was going to spend the next 5 years learning everything I could about natural healing, and seeing whatever clients I had space for, while raising the kids so that when they were all in school full time, I’d be ready to step into this new career as a natural healer. And I realized I’m doing it.

Those moments when I feel like I’m not doing enough or not getting it right come when I compare myself to other people’s journeys. I remembered that promise in my heart and it looks and feels like success to me because I realized I am doing exactly what I said I was going to do, and I’m doing it well.

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What I Like About Jesus

I feel like a lot of people misunderstand Jesus and why he came here (to Earth). The Bible has been kind of ruined by stuffy, religious people who get too focused on rules and lose sight of a relationship with God.

Jesus was a radical and, I have to believe, the most confident guy to ever walk the planet. He did not waste time trying to prove himself to anybody, ever. I think of the story of when He was talking to the woman at the well. If you don’t understand the customs of the day this may not seem like a big deal but this woman was a woman with a reputation and she was not allowed to access the well in the cooler morning hours with the women of good reputation; she was also a Samaritan. So, a triple whammy, a woman, a woman with a reputation, and a Samaritan––Jews and Samaritans did not associate, a man typically did not spend time talking to a woman that was not his wife, especially one that had a reputation as an adultress. And yet, when His disciples arrive and ask Him why he’s talking to this woman the Bible makes no reference to Him offering even one explanation as to why He was talking to her. Nothing about what is right or wrong, good or bad about it, the story basically leads to the woman finding salvation and telling everybody she knows about Jesus and His greatness.

This is what I love about Jesus, he is just so BadAss! He does not explain His motives. He does not answer out of compulsion or a need to show others why He is right. He doesn’t break the rules but rather shows us that there is more to life than just following rules. Like when the Pharisees accuse His disciples of “working” on the Sabbath because they are picking grains of wheat to eat when they are very hungry––He shows us that the Sabbath was made for us, not that we were made to follow the Sabbath. Yes, we are to rest but not out of a compulsion to follow the rules. Rather, the Sabbath was made for us to rest and to take time to feed our spirits with time and attention. Jesus shows us that the rules are meant to care for us, not to control us; they are meant to give us our best life. The woman at the well would not have experienced a changed life for the better if Jesus had stuck to following the rules and customs of the day by not associating with a Samaritan woman. The rules are meant for people, not the other way around.

The “rules” carve out a straight and easy path for us to follow be we are meant to be led down that path by The Spirit of our Creator. The rules are meant to make our way smooth so that we can focus on what really matters: our connection to Source that allows us to be in touch with Self, others and our environment. Mmm, my heart feels at peace just thinking about that.

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What Story?

For the longest time, I didn’t think I had a story. No major traumas, no near death experiences, no escaping from a cult or whatever else makes an “amazing” story. I thought I was too ordinary to have a story that anyone would want to know about. Ordinary compared to what?

That was the problem, I was comparing myself and my story to others. Trauma is relative, and because I had grown up under a veil of shame I don’t even think I realized I had traumas for the longest time. Living with that much shame is a trauma in itself I think, but I’ll get into that in another post.

Another aspect of my hesitancy is that I don’t want to be a victim. I don’t want to be seen or labeled as a victim by anyone else because I don’t feel like one, at least not anymore. Sometimes, when I think about telling my story, I imagine other moms reading it thinking “oh that poor girl, if only…” focusing on how tragically pathetic I was and how I needed to be saved. I don’t want anyone’s pity. I just want to be seen. I want others to be able to read my story and realize that the kid, teenage girl, or the young woman, they are secretly or not so secretly judging––assuming she knows she’s wasting her potential, or assuming she’s making stupid choices on purpose––is maybe just floundering around in life, feeling invisible and in need of some love and guidance. She doesn’t need your pity, she needs your authenticity.

I just believed that all the stuff that happened to me or the things I experienced in my life were a result of my own clueless naivete and that if I hadn’t been so stupid none of it would have happened. And maybe that’s true, but it doesn’t disqualify me from having a story and needing to tell it. After all, I’ve learned from it, maybe someone else can too.

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Becoming a Writer

It has become quite apparent to me within the past 6 that I need to write and share my story.

So, I took a brief, but very useful and encouraging, writing course online with Reid Tracy and Kelly Notaras. Then, I bought Kelly Notaras book, The Book You Were Born to Write. She says in order to be a writer all you really need to do is write; you need a writing practice. In the book, she acknowledges her hope that the reader would write something after each section.

The truth is, I had made my 100 Days commitment even before I’d take the writing course or started reading her book. And, I’ve already written probably two posts about how I’ve been slacking off on this commitment. It’s probably not realistic to write everyday when you have small children around-–that was probably the most common excuse I was telling myself. And although it’s valid, it’s still an excuse. Then I was procrastinating my writing because the things I have to say are not always the easiest to write about––but who cares? No one is reading this blog right now, no one but me! “Stop making excuses!” I tell myself.

But then I remind myself about the physics of progress; and knowing the way I am, I need to establish a writing habit first and then get into the nitty gritty stuff, while allowing space for the nitty gritty to flow naturally whenever that is the case.

So, here I go, practising: Today I read about the difference between traditional publishing and self-publishing and what’s involved in each avenue. Regardless of which avenue I pursue, it’s evident to me that I need to begin, or rather resume, building my audience. Though, with self-publishing this is less of a deterrent as I can start and publish without having a large audience; traditional publishers, because of the way the business works now, they basically won’t even look in your direction if you don’t bring a large audience to the table.

Given that I feel pretty shy about telling my story, I would probably prefer writing it without a huge audience at first, I really like to process my own thoughts before sharing them. Either way, it’s a beast. Writing a book, is a big undertaking. It’s also a path of self-discovery and that is what I’m most looking forward to. That, and all the people I will meet and get to know along the way!

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The Resistance

I’m noticing a lot of resistance to doing these blog posts. Not just the blog posts, but an online group series that I’ve been working on, in my head, for a couple months now. I mean, resistance from myself. I find a lot of excuses. They are good excuses, like stuff that actually needs to get done, but it leads me away all too easily. It doesn’t just lead me away, it’s a comfort. It’s stuff I can do that doesn’t have me putting myself out there and being vulnerable.

Why can’t I get all this stuff I want to say out onto the page? What is holding me back? I am simultaneously afraid that I will be amazing and also a major flop; that no one will want to hear what I have to say and that I won’t be able to keep up with being “a success”, whatever that means. It’s a perfect way to do nothing!

I asked a friend/colleague today if she was afraid when she first started teaching. She is so natural, and when I participate in her classes and calls, you would never know that she’s nervous and everything flows. She said she’s always scared but that she chooses to expand her life anyway. It was brief but it was exactly what I needed to hear.

I believe it was Mandela who said that “Courage is not the absence of fear but the triumph over it”. It’s ok to be scared but do the thing anyway. I know this is what I need. I may have to tell myself this a few times before it really sinks in, but making the decision to do it scared is an important part of the process. I am working on my process. I have made the decision and I’m on my way to unstoppable.

Are there things you would love to be doing? Things that you know would expand your life? What’s stopping you? Would you like to know what the unstoppable you looks and feels like? Ask me how.