A Work in Progress

The Super Bowl Through the Eyes of a Bitter Cleveland (Browns, Indians, Cavs) Fan

Red Right 88 (Browns)

The Drive (Browns)

The Fumble (Browns)

The Shot (Cavs)

Jose Mesa (Indians)

The Decision (Cavs)

Such short phrases – encompassing such great sports agony.  You realize you’re old when you were alive for all of these. If you are a younger Cleveland fan, you are no doubt aware of these anyway as the entire list is revisited every time a sports show needs an example of defeat being snatched from the jaws of victory.

We are the sports city that is perennially waiting to take that “next step.”  And, then when we do, we invariably step in “#%&@”.   Just last night – the Cavs set the dubious record for most consecutive losses in a single season. Sigh.

And, so, like the starving child with their face pressed against the glass outside an all-you-can-eat buffet, we Cleveland fans will watch our rivals, the Pittsburgh Steelers, head back to the food line for their 7^th helping.

Am I bitter? Yes, I guess I am.  But my bitterness stems more from how the Cleveland sports scene is used as an excuse to make uninformed, ignorant comments about the Cleveland community.   I live near a city which has been struggling since before I can remember.  Like many areas that relied on the steel industry, Cleveland faces the challenge of redefining itself in a landscape ever-changing with each new technological discovery.  To some, our torturous sports history is synonymous with the ups-and-downs of the Cleveland economy. I guess I can accept that.  But, where I see the resiliency of a community whose spirit endures despite each challenge that comes our way, others feel the need to ridicule continued attempts as futile.

So, when we talk about sports, let’s stay on the topic shall we?  No more cheap shots please.

The Cleveland sports fan is just as deserving as those waving the Terrible Towels and those wearing triangular Cheese-hats. And so, at some point in time today, I will feel some empathy for the fans of whichever team loses (yes, even Steeler fans).  And, I will share with them the eternal mantra of the Cleveland sports fan: Wait until next year!

Won't You Be My Valentine?

A link in this morning’s electronic edition of the local newspaper caught my eye. It read: “Are you dreading Valentine’s Day?”  Apparently the staff is seeking comments from “unattached people about how they cope with the holiday.”

Wow – this made it sound like being unattached was…  a disease, or at the very least, a condition requiring a support group.

Yes, I know --- even Wikipedia defines Valentine’s Day as a holiday celebrating love and affection between intimate companions.  I would like to challenge you to look beyond this rather short-sighted notion that Valentine’s Day is only for couples. I’m certainly not suggesting that you skip the celebration of romance and love with that special someone in your life.  That could get some of you into trouble! J But, why can’t Valentine’s Day be more of a celebration of ALL the special people in our lives?

My freshman year of college, on one of those bleak, wintry evenings of early February, there was a knock on our outer suite door. (Our dorm had suites of 6 students who each had their own teeny, tiny bedroom and shared a small common area and bathroom.)  We gals were invited to sit in our common area for a surprise.  A group of 10-12 guys from other suites in our dorm soon trooped in. There was the quick sound of a pitch pipe, and…  these guys broke into a very sweet 4-part harmony rendition of “Let Me Call You Sweetheart.” They looked rather sheepish at times, they missed a few notes, and it was wonderful.  I’ve never forgotten it.  The next year (when I happened to be dating the organizer of this chorus, so I was no longer one of those “unattached” persons), I think it made an even larger impact on me. As the guys sang, I could feel the dynamics in the room change. This was no longer a room of dating “haves” and “have nots”. This was a roomful of friends.

There is no reason that Valentine’s Day can't be a day to celebrate all the special people in our lives.

And, for that matter, there’s no reason that acknowledging people who are important to us has to be limited to just one time of year.  As my sons were growing up, it was not unusual for me to randomly pick up a little treat (a favorite candy bar, pack of pokemon cards, goofy looking pencils, SOMETHING that said I had been thinking of them) and leave it on their pillow, computer keyboard, or just on one of the stairs heading up to their bedrooms with a note that said “Happy Friday (Monday, Thursday, etc.)”. It was such a simple way to share some positive energy with two of the most important people in my life. Just like the Valentine serenade, I could feel the dynamics of the day change.

EVERY day is a good day to tell someone they are important to you. You don’t have to wait until Valentine’s Day and you don’t have to limit that message to only that special someone. Sometimes it can be even more meaningful to acknowledge those friends and important people in your life who may NOT be “attached” to you.

Too Much Technology?

After a day like today, I’m not sure there is such a thing as too much technology.

Somewhat of a CNN-buff, I’ve watched the rather frightening events in Egypt unfold today -- live.  How did this uprising get started – how did it gain momentum? It seems that Facebook and other social media outlets played a huge part in spreading the word in real time.  Even when Egypt basically “shut down” the Internet, enough streams were able to get out, that audio and video continued to leak out to the rest of the world.  It wasn’t too long ago when news events from the other side of the world took days to get to the public, with plenty of opportunity for censorship before it hit the airwaves.

I spent much of my day setting up an online shopping cart for a client where her videos on children’s nutrition will be available for download.  She will be able to reach a global audience easily; no inventory, packaging, shipping. Customers can order, pay and have the video in their hands in a matter of minutes.

While I write this (and actually the realization that led me to write this blog entry), half of my screen is running live video of my nephew’s Division III basketball game. And, although it’s not an important enough match-up to be on national TV, it’s important to me. 

Earlier today, I downloaded an application so I can access local weather radar on my phone. I already open my smartphone before I hop out of bed each morning, and scan through the national news. And, yes, when I can’t sleep, I’ve been known to check my email at 4 in the morning.  Gee, maybe that’s one of the reasons I can’t sleep well!?

I’ve had quick conversations with both sons through g-chat today.  Just a quick “how’s it going?” – but that connection sure made me feel a bit closer to them.

I used to enjoy listening to stories from my grandparents-in-law. I marveled at the “history” they had witnessed – I’m just realizing that my (future) grandchildren will have the same experience.  They’ll ask, “Tell us what it was like when you only had 4 television channels and could only talk on a phone or work on a computer when it was plugged into the wall.”  Oh geez – maybe there won’t even be television, telephones or computers by then!

Oh… .and by the way.  Marietta College (my nephew’s team) won by 2 points with a buzzer-beater.  I’m so glad I was “there.”

 

Ghosts of Mondays Past

My dad died suddenly in January of 1998. After meeting my mom at the hospital that night 13 years ago and then taking her back to their home, mom’s overwhelmed mind fixated on the fact that someone needed to take the garbage down to the curb and my dad was not going to be able to do that anymore.

I remember it vividly. I walked the large can down to the curb, all the while looking up at a sky filled with stars. In the immediacy of my grief, they seemed huge and I felt so small.  I knew my mom would need help and that her care would fall largely to me.  I remember talking to the stars that night, promising my dad that I would look out for my mom.  Little did I know that in less than 15 months, I would also be adding the titles of widow and single mom to my job description. 

But, I never forgot.  And, with the help of my sisters and especially my two sons, I was able to keep that promise. We had several years of good times (and challenging times). When mom got older, she moved into an in-law suite built on to my home and spent her last several years enjoying her grandchildren’s choir concerts, band concerts and basketball games. When she lost her battle with lung cancer, my sisters and I were with her.
   
It’s Monday night here, the night folks on my street put out their garbage cans.  Since my dad's death, the walk down to the curb and back has been the time when thoughts of my folks are uppermost in my mind (longer strolls when it is warmer, and quick visits on cold nights like tonight!!).

During the last several months, I realize that the ghosts have lost their sadness.  More than that, they are no longer alone.

Meandering down and up the driveway each week, so many other important 5-minute snippets come to mind now too.  When my sons were younger, we tended to trundle the cart down together (even if there was only one cart to push).  How could I forget…

...my younger son, A, always having to be first back up the drive (it must be a youngest child thing!). No matter how hard I would try to fake him out, I was never ahead when it counted;

...on snowy nights, watching the boys and our (then much younger) border collie climb up the snow hills created when the driveway was plowed. Some nights the dog was too scared to climb back down without a push (or two);

...watching my older son, C, lope up the driveway and realizing for the first time that he was no longer a boy, but was well on his way to becoming a man;

...the boys hooting and hollering as they and the dog chased each other around the front yard in the spring and summer;

...having heart-to-heart conversations about life and death, more easily had when the darkness would hide the tears in our eyes; and

...realizing again and again that the only constellation I know for sure is Orion (thank goodness for the three stars in his belt!).

It's a great reminder that we are never alone. So, take a moment – embrace the ghosts who have walked with you, even during the most ordinary and unremarkable times in your life.

On Beyond Zebra - Thoughts on a 50th Birthday

A lifelong Seuss fan, I’ve come to think of my 50^th birthday today in terms of the Seussian classic On Beyond Zebra. As a youngster, 50 feels so far away and (well, let’s face it) nearer to death than to birth.   But, the literary nonsense in On Beyond Zebra reminds us to look beyond the confines of the ordinary alphabet.  I plan to use this birthday to look beyond the confines of my ordinary life.

I’ve met and married (and then suffered the loss of) the love of my life. Both my parents have passed beyond this life as well. I’ve had the pleasure and challenge of being a single parent, raising two kids while keeping a roof over our heads.  At times, I’ve wondered why I am not sitting in the corner, helpless.   I’ve imagined myself as the needy Melanie in Gone with the Wind – the back of my hand pressed against my brow exclaiming “Oh, Ashley” – and waiting for a knight in shining armor to come and rescue me.

If you can envision me in either of those last scenarios – then I am afraid you don’t know me very well.  :)

So, I’m 50.  I run my own business.  I have 2 terrific sons.  I don’t say that mindlessly or facetiously.  I have helped to raise two intelligent, capable and independent-thinking young men.  Now, at times, the independent-thinking part doesn’t seem quite as much fun, but it is important.  They are both embarked on their own paths – pursuing their own interests.  It’s taken me a little while to figure out that it is time to think about my next steps.  Continuing to focus solely on them isn’t good for any of us.  C is a 1L in law school and A is a sophomore working towards his undergrad degree (also thinking about law school).  My relationships with them have changed from need-oriented (although I hope they still need me just a little) to the more adult-parent to adult-child relationship I had hoped for.

I’m 50 already!??  Well, then I better get to it!

I will be attending my first out-of-town software workshop/conference ever in March (InfusionCon here I come!) and another personal workshop later this year in October.  I’ve made some changes in my business that reflect a movement into a new direction, and it already feels “right.” I have arrangements in place so that I can leave my home and dogs for a weekend and (gasp) the world does NOT end. 

So – On Beyond Zebra!  The first one to find a Thnadnus wins!!

Pass the Pickles!

Just a few days after Thanksgiving, I remembered: I love pickles!  I’ve always loved pickles! Even though I haven’t had a pickle in forever (it seems), I love pickles! Juicy, crisp, crunchy dill pickle spears.  When cleaning up from our Thanksgiving feast, somehow all the pickles from the crystal serving dish didn’t get back into their jar.  Making a quick sandwich for lunch one day last week, I spied the pickle dish in the refrigerator and, on the spur of the moment, added one to the plate with my sandwich.

I’ve had a pickle every day for lunch ever since.  How could I have forgotten that I love pickles!

It’s easy.

I've gotten into the habit of setting aside my own favorites for others.  As a mom, I’ve found it difficult sometimes to remember what some of MY favorite restaurants or foods are, some of the favorite things that I like to do.  I mean no offense to my sons – this was my own doing.  I know the preferences of my sons, my in-laws, my friends.  Sometimes, it’s darn near impossible for me to decide what I would like – because my brain is so crowded with all the preferences of others.  My boys will urge me to pick what I want, and I just can’t remember! And, being a good mom (or daughter or friend), you know it really doesn’t make a whole lot of difference whose favorite is chosen.  The joy is in being together.

But, every once in a while, you’ve got to taste that pickle!

As a gift to myself, I have pledged to have more “pickle moments.”

Yesterday, I popped into my local Borders bookstore for no reason. It was wonderful!  I remember how much I loved the smell of the books at the local library when I was a kid.  Reading was a passion with me. We didn’t get to visit the library very often, so the entire experience was often filed away in my memory to enjoy over and over at a later time. Although today’s frenetic pace has invaded most stores, and even bookstores, somehow Borders has managed to re-create that space, where patrons move among the stacks in a generally unhurried manner, and speak in hushed, almost reverent tones.  The strategically placed over-stuffed and comfortable chairs were inviting, and the sound level of Christmas music was just right.  I was successful – I spent over an hour simply soaking up the smells, the quiet music, the comfort of the chair and the old-fashioned feeling of pages under my fingers.  [Don’t worry Borders – I generally make a purchase whenever visiting your store.  Just this time – it was all about the experience.  But, I’ll be back!]

So, during this busy holiday season and beyond, can I recommend you regularly add a “pickle” to your plate?

Leaving Your Mark

It’s a standard “exercise” – when it comes time for your obituary to be written, how would you want it to read?

In the busy-ness of our day-to-day activities, it’s an exercise we probably don’t consider often.

Yesterday was “cemetery day” for me – the day when I place holiday wreaths at the graves of my late husband and my parents…  two different cemeteries, a long drive in between them.  Plenty of time to think.

I stop at my husband’s gravesite first.  In the past, I’ve pretty much ignored the fact that my name is already engraved on the headstone. For some people it might seem comforting to know where their final resting place will be.  For me – it sort of gives me the “willies.” For whatever reason, I really SAW my name on the headstone yesterday and that image has stayed with me.

Obviously for people who don’t know me, my being on this earth will simply be marked by this engraved headstone.  But, will I leave something more for family and friends?  I sure hope so.

Dealing with the loss of a spouse at an early age has probably given me a bit of a different perspective on death.  Our boys were both fairly young when we lost their dad.  I immediately determined that his name would NOT be discussed in hushed tones or, even worse, left out of conversations altogether. Over the years, I’ve shared stories to help paint a picture of him for our sons.  Actually, I’m sure there are a few stories I’ve shared that their dad would rather have been left UN-shared.  Oh well. J

The gloomy rainy day of yesterday (which perfectly matched my mood for the day’s activities) has given way to the first visible snowflakes of the winter season today. A season changes, a page has turned. A new chapter will be written.

I guess it’s time to shake the gravestone image from my head.  I certainly won’t live my life specifically to leave a good obituary when I’m gone.  But, I really hope there are some stories that will be shared – something that keeps me alive in the hearts and minds of those I love – funny stories as well as serious ones – something more than an etching on a gravestone.

Editor’s Note: With the coming of the holidays, this might be a less cheery message than one might expect to be posted.  However, it comes from the heart.  And it might be a gentle reminder to give the best gift to those you love – the gift that keeps on giving – the gift of yourself.

Organizing - For Who?

Every once in a while, I catch a show called "Clean House" - a lovely little program on Style network that shows families whose lives have been overtaken by clutter and disorganization.  I admit, it's a kind of selfish practice, demonstrating that 1) there ARE people who are far less organized than I am; and 2) the amount of clutter collected by my late mother is not all that unusual.

Of course, during the process, the designer looks at these poor overwhelmed people and asks them, "what is your purpose for this room?" or "what activities do you envision doing in here?"  Such a basic question. Now as I think really hard about my 30 Days of Organizing, I realize there's not such an easy answer.

My youngest son was home from college for a whirlwind visit for the Easter weekend. Of course, it went by all too fast.  But, during the weekend, I realized that although I have done a pretty good job of shifting the purposes and functions of our home for my sons as they've grown, I have not done a good job at all when it comes to me.

Like most people, my life has included its share of challenges over the years.  I married, had kids, suffered the sudden loss of my dad to a stroke, then shortly thereafter suffered the devastating sudden loss of my husband.  I've cared for my newly widowed mom while she was still in her home, and then expanded my home a bit to provide care for her here, through her lung cancer diagnosis and our journey with hospice.  I built a graphic design business based in a home office so I could be "mom first" for our sons, and then added the challenge of developing a Virtual Assistant practice as they grew. My two wonderful sons are now well on their way to adulthood, both off on their own college adventures.

With each of these new challenges - my life, our home, my surroundings, my routine changed.  It changed in whatever manner was needed to make everything work.  By starting my studies with AssistU several years ago, I was already preparing for the change I could see coming -- a life that would (for probably the first time) be focused mainly on my own needs.

So, I followed the "clearning" group last month, but stayed purposefully on the fringes, knowing I had some deeply personal and tough things to work through.  But, by the end of the month of March, I was ready to tackle one of my biggest challenges: the joint closet I shared with my late husband. I often compare his sudden death to living in a snow-globe.  Someone picked up my world, shook it violently and when everything settled again, I looked out upon a vastly different landscape.

So, I delved into the deep recesses of our walk-in closet.  I cried over some things and smiled wistfully at others.  Our local Salvation Army store benefited greatly.  It was so wonderful to look at that sweater I may still fit, but always hated and never wore - and donate it!  I restructured my closet for who I am now.  When I walk in, I see hangers and shelves with items that reflect options appropriate for my life today.  The guilt I feared does not exist - I know I did not "clean out" my husband from my memories or my heart.

Within the next few days, I saw Stacy's posting about the 30 Days of Organizing and knew I was ready to continue this process.  So, for now, as I look around me and decide the next thing to be organized -- I remind myself "I am organizing this for my use" and ask "what activities do I envision for this space" -- realizing this will be as much a mental process as one that will require the physical organizing of spaces.

My Year of Living Purposefully - Step 3 (Out of Bounds!)

I have to admit that I love the NCAA Men's and Women's Basketball Tournaments.  It is basketball played in its purest form.  After months and years of hard work, for some of these student athletes it comes down to the games played in these last few weeks.  I'm impressed by their dedication and passion for the game. 

Yet, despite the importance of the moment as they give the game their all, when they hear that referee's whistle blow, they all stop. Why?  Of course, there has been a violation of the rules: a foul, a ball going out of bounds, a time violation.  They all stop because they acknowledge the established boundaries of the game.

I've been operating a micro-business since the early 1990s.  As much as I have learned, and as much as I love being my own boss, probably the biggest challenge for me (still!) is establishing boundaries in my business relationships and then standing by them.

See, I want everyone to like me; I want their business. I don't want to make any demands on my clients - they might think I am difficult to work with and take their business elsewhere.  It has been painful to learn that working in the "out of bounds" area can be downright unpleasant. Really, it is not a good situation for either side of the business relationship.

In recent months, as I've been working through my Partnering Process with potential new clients for my Virtual Assistant practice, I have been much more purposeful about establishing and discussing my standards...  up front, professionally, and in a matter-of-fact manner. The result? I've had more potential clients who have not gotten past the first step of my process. But, there were 2 potential clients where we worked through the entire Partnering Process together and mutually decided we would like to work together. I can already feel the difference in these relationships, even in the early stages. 

We both discussed and acknowledged what we each considered "out of bounds" in our business relationship. Certainly, amidst the moments that are ahead of us, that referee's whistle may blow. But because of the strong foundation laid from the very beginning, I have no doubt that we will stop the play, acknowledge the boundary and then resume the game.

Why We Root for the Underdog

It's March Madness time again.  For the last several years, a group of family and close friends has participated in our own friendly little NCAA bracket competition - not for money, but just for bragging rights. Actually, to us, bragging rights are more valuable than money anyway!

Over the past several days, my bracket has been "busted" so many times, I don't even know if I can find all the pieces. There have certainly been some fantastic, buzzer-beater finishes, but as often as not, it's the lower seed who pulls out the victory.

I find myself saying this is the best NCAA tournament in recent memory, even though my projected winner, Kansas, was beaten last night by a relatively unknown Northern Iowa team. By the end of that game, I found myself rooting for the Panthers. These guys fought hard, they came to win, they hadn't listened to all the talking heads that said they didn't have a chance, that they shouldn't even bother to try. You could see it on their faces. They believed that their best was worth putting out there, and that it might even be enough to win.

So, why do we root for the underdog?  The answer is easy: On any given day, the underdog is US!

Keep believing in yourself.