A little later in life than I wish, I stumbled across the work of Bryon Katie.  In one of her books Katie questions the need for alcoholics to tell themselves they are in fact alcoholics for the rest of their lives as part of their treatment.  Who would they be without their story?  Perhaps just another man or woman, a husband or wife, a friend or family member that is socially responsible for their actions?  Just when do you get rid of the recovery addict story or do you?

Now the drama of supporting an alcoholic through his various detoxification, attempts at moderation and cleansing stents seemed like nothing.  They no longer hurt me.  I no longer felt used.  The story, his story, was for him to love, hate, tell or hide.  Ah, what a relief!  I can free my brain from rewinding this terrible movie.

That’s not always the case when you gather with friends or family.  They inquire with curiosity, “Just how bad was it?”

So here is the truth.  It was enough.  Enough that changes needed to be made.  It was not horrible, it was not great and for goodness sake let’s not go down the road where you remind me it was meant to happen in my life to give me an appreciation for whatever fill in the blank thing you’d like to say.  I already get it.  If you’re curious and fishing with curiosity here’s the short version.

It sucked and I’m over it.

Remember your really trendy 80’s haircut?  What keeps you from redoing that hair-do?  Probably that your co-workers may think you’ve officially lost it and there’s better dos to be sporting these days?

That’s what I feel like when someone wants to hear about a transition that happened over six years ago.  It feels like soooooooooooooo long ago and really now if I’ve moved on can’t you?

I suppose there’s something interesting about someone’s past but here’s a newly developed problem my 37 year-old, divorced, white, female with three daughters status has experienced.  A man with a few less descriptive words, the once plain and simple, “single, male”, has baggage for not having baggage.  See at least I’ve taken a whack at life, falling down and getting back up.  I’ve added colorful experiences to my life.  I went into this direction or that with full-fledged passion and intention.  I didn’t half-ass my way through any of it.  Changing my thoughts after 6 years or maybe just 6 months.  Falling down and you bet getting right back up.

I write, speak and live the truth.  If you don’t like that, don’t ask me questions about my personal life.

You don’t have to catch the sky for those who think it is falling because soon their delusion will fade.  Pity parties are best suited for one.  Give them their dignity and a sincere hug.

You don’t have to find fault in a challenging situation or make yourself the hero for the day.  Help and support someone because you can, not because you have to or because you’re keeping a good deed list.  Do it, feel good about it and move on.

Living with bliss is really about getting aligned with who you are, where your energy is best served and finding joyful moments with the people you meet.

It is a lifestyle choice.  A healthy one.

We’ve lived with tag lines like “Don’t worry be happy,” and “Be positive.”  So why is it as I get older I meet more alcoholic, anxiety prescribed people?  Were these the mindless people telling others to be happy lacking depth, insight or courage to walk or leap into their own journey?

I drew a line in the ocean sand in 2009 and sat with my desire for essential bliss for over 7 months in a yoga studio that became my sanctuary.

I invested in my alignment and it doesn’t matter if that makes sense to anyone else.  You can get all bent out of shape.   All my daughters are healthy and we are living in our form of bliss.

What do you resist with ridiculous amounts of fear yet when you burst your own bubble all that comes to mind is absolute satisfaction?

What brings magic to your yoga practice or blazes your inner fire to push past your 5 mile run?

I write.

My stories are not for tears.  My words are for restoring hope.  I’ve pushed through my own limitations and I believe with the right amount of support you will too.

I sat with a few good athletes at the Lifetime Fitness Chicago Triathlon VIP event last summer.  They joked and asked me if I knew why they swim across the top of other participants.  I sincerely asked, “no, why?”  They looked at me with a competitive zen, leaned in close and confessed, “because we can.”  I felt like I received a secret code.  If you are going to race do it with passion and perseverance.

I write with the same endurance and strength.

My stories are the single mom version of Eat, Pray, Love minus the financial advance from the publishing company and trip abroad.  I finally did something I truly wanted to do.  I refused to complain about not doing it one more day.  I took financial risk, drastically changed my life style and sold almost all of my clothes at a resale shop to fill my bag with sets of clean yoga tights.  For such a loving and gentle activity those things are expensive.

I write to preserve my personal life experience with my three beautiful girls.  In the meantime, I write to encourage one human being at a time to take steps towards transformation.  I stopped taking advice from people I did not admire.  I created a colorful plan full of abundance for my girls.  Then I found gratitude and appreciation in how the dots connected.  I am not done yet.  I believe I’ll have to live to be 100 just to experience everything I want to do.   If today were my last physical day my daughters each know I am satisfied with what today served me.

For my Artist Way friends and followers write on.  May your Morning Pages pour out like the best conversation you have ever had with yourself.  Honor your creativity, the athlete that lives inside you and the company of great friends.

I write because I can.  So can you.  Damn that felt good.

We you can accept that everything isn’t about you.  That stuff didn’t happen to you and there’s more value in asking why than “why me” or (whining), inner peace is just around the corner.

When you can support the people around you, the circles in your life like your family, friends, neighbors and coworkers you are supporting the greater circle, something bigger than you.  Doing your part cooperatively and collaboratively while respecting everyone else’s time to get on with their day.

When you can do something nice for another human being, perhaps without them evening knowing it minus boosting your ego with a charity scoreboard.  To serve because in that moment you had the extra time, energy or money that empowered you to do something kind for someone else you get to experience how electrifying positive acts of kindness can be.  Like walking down the street with a sincere smile bringing more to a stranger’s life than we’ll ever imagine until we’re lucky enough to be on the receiving end one day.

When you can support the bottom line of your company’s goals without getting wrapped up in who is at the helm you’re actually leading with more power than not.  It’s self-empowering and you are your best teacher.  Being excellent is no longer unobtainable because when doing great things is part of your daily work being excellent doesn’t take that much more energy.  What’s more important is being fresh and full of life every day you walk in the door.  To wake up every morning with pure joy sharing a positive thought with yourself as soon as your feet hit the floor.  If you don’t have that right now make it a top priority.  This is not just a goal.  This is about your purpose in life.  Your own mission possible.

When you become more aware of your sense of self, others around you know exactly where you stand, what purpose you serve and what lights your inner fire.  People will not just rely on you, instead calling upon you for the great things you have to offer.  There’s nothing better than knowing you’ve got the right person for the role or to be there when your contributions add the most value.  You trust you are exactly where you need to be with people around you that bring out the best of what you have stored inside.

Sometimes we do not receive the amount of gratitude we feel we deserve.  Sometimes you have to fire your job so you can hire the real you, withdraw from your family so you can take care of yourself or take a break from your friends to focus on your shift in priorities.

Getting to know yourself with as much curiosity as you have in the lives of others takes courage but it’s exciting.

As I meet new acquaintances they naturally inquire about what brings me here filling in their own comments sprinkled with a little bit of judgment before I can even answer.  Their perception is of course from their own life experience and we hope with the best of intention.  So in this “Power of Now” and “Be In The Moment” lifestyle we all seem to be striving for why does the grass still always seem greener on the other side?  Despite the fact that we wish everyone a Merry Christmas digging into someone’s personal life keeps our interest at best.  It’s like a “human car accident,” a Lookie Loo, wasting time ranting and raving about who knows what.   In due time you escape the conversation never knowing if it had an ending or point.

My life experience has afforded me the opportunity to find purpose.  I enjoy finding more interesting things to talk about than the weather.  Scraping snow off my car and bundling up before walking outside is just a mere series of steps you take to start your day.  It’s not an obstacle, it is not a sacrifice and it does not have to suck.

The other day I set out early on my way to work.  It was still dark outside and very cold.  I jumped back into the car after walking my 7 year-old daughter into morning child care.  She’s one of the first to arrive at 6:45 AM as I rush off to work avoiding the downtown streets before the masses arrive.  On this day, I happened upon a series of red lights.  Ugh, a less than favorable experience.  Then I noticed four white canes held by a group of people waiting for the bus.  They were all bundled up and seemed content.  Being present in their moment just waiting.  I traveled a few blocks before hitting another red light, a bus stop and three more white cane holders with a red-tip.  My life experience flashed through my head.  I thought of the new mom that I shared a room with for a few hours after I gave birth to my first daughter.  Her baby didn’t pass the hearing test.  Something was wrong and that’s all they knew.  I felt overwhelmed until they came in to share the good news that Jocelyn was perfectly fine.  Then I felt guilty for having a healthy baby unable to say anything out loud until she left.

The light turned green.  The inside of car was finally warm.

I arrived upon another red light.  And two more white canes.

I am so lucky to have three healthy beautiful girls.

I am mindful as I watch the light beams brightly shining the color green.  I am grateful for My Big Adventure.

I was a mind over matter get it done no matter what kind of a gal until I started observing a little bit more than doing.  I started listening a little bit more than talking.  I began feeling a stronger sense of myself aligning with the universe.  As I write about in my book Single, Sassy & Sexy, I didn’t know what to do with all of this until I experienced a broken heart, great loss and sat in moments of hopelessness struggling to find my path while caring for my three daughters.  The endless question would arise, “there has got to be a better way?”

The resistance we carry in our minds is our biggest obstacle.  Choosing happiness despite any circumstance was and is an option.  We get caught up in the moment and lose sight of what matters.  What did happen already happened so just be.  It is an option to be fully present and today it almost seems like a gift given all the distractions we carry with us in an effort to be connected…….yet less engaged.  Now I just stop talking if I see you are texting while we are having a discussion.  I want to allow you to be present in your moment while allowing me to have my own.  To reserve my energy and have a sensible conversation when you are ready to re-engage.  In doing so, I can recall conversations I’ve had and my memory serves me well.   I don’t have to write myself countless sticky notes reminding me to remind myself to remember to do something.

During my yoga studies I learned we only use 15% of our brain capacity so what is going on with the other 75% and how can we tap into it?  By slowing down, breathing more, worrying less and developing some form of meditation.  The poses of yoga serve to detoxify and purify the body, traditionally done in the morning, to prepare one for a deeper level of meditation later in the day.  We have all sorts of twists and bends to remove anxiety, tension and even flatulence for our gassy friends.  So if you practice some form of yoga and you’re skipping the meditation it’s kind of like drinking hot chocolate without whip cream on top.  From my yogini heart to yours may you find every moment yummy delicious!   If you’ve wanted to try yoga for years but haven’t found the time to fit it into your life give yourself a gift to take a class, make a date with yourself and honor it!  It has changed my life and I know it will positively affect you in some way.

Be well, live well and serve others well so we may all experience great human kindness.

Namaste’

I say do a lot of extras for you and be loving to your kids.  Start by setting an example of being loving to you. When I stopped apologizing to them through my actions and took my proper position our entire household settled down.

It Wasn’t About Enforcing Discipline It Was About Restoring My Emotional Balance

And Then I Watched My Kids Calm Down.

Kids are masterful at law of attraction and wonderful negotiators.  They make magical Christmas lists for Santa and won’t give up when they want something really bad.  Just because they are doing a great job of harassing you doesn’t give you permission to inform them their father hasn’t kept a job in a year and doesn’t pay child support.  Give to your kids what you can and evaluate what they truly need.  All kids with married parents, divorced parents or two sets of parents will benefit from saving their own money for something they truly want.  If that’s from birthday money, chores, an allowance, etc. don’t use being divorced as justification to blame the other parent for what you cannot provide.  Ask God for abundance and he will provide.

I am going to use something simple like how the idea of exchanging clothing can become a battleground for parents and making up for it can be an expression of fake joy towards our children.  Here are two separate scenarios of how addressing the emotional baggage you carry will serve your children and bring more love to everyone.

Scenario 1

You buy your daughter a holiday dress and matching shoes.  She looks beautiful in it and your ego is proud you spent so much money.  You tell her she’s a lucky little girl and she must remember to change before her dad picks her up because he’d never remember to give the nice dress and shoes back.

You head over to your relatives for a family meal and everyone compliments her too.  She’s as cute as a button.  Your ego is still proud and you have to let your entire family know she will be changing pretty soon before her dad picks her up because he’d never remember to bring the dress back.  This stirs your family up a little bit and they start to ask questions about how it’s been going with your “ex” and few may even turn to your daughter and outwardly say, “we’re not talking bad about your dad honey.”  Yet they are and indirectly asking the child for forgiveness.  “I didn’t mean for it to sound that way.”

But The Derogatory Comments Are Said And There Sits Your Daughter In Her Beautiful Dress Cute As A Button Experiencing Another Family Holiday Filled With Resentment Instead Of Gratitude.

You and your ex-husband are still actively playing the game of pushing each others buttons so he instantly calls you to give you a piece of his mind.  You defend yourself with a laundry list of everything he’s forgotten to do for you since the first week you met which just ticks you off even more for putting up with it.  You’re always right and he’s always wrong.

You are angry for days and justify yourself to every friend you speak with repeating your version of the story several times over the next 48 hours.  You put her dress in the closet where it hangs for another 12 months before you realize it’s too small and time for a new holiday dress.

Both parents are emotionally drained and wasted their money.  Their child has more than they need in material things.  Mom, Dad and child get excited about the future holidays but secretly hate them.  It means they’ll have to deal with more of that chaos their ex always creates never taking responsibility for what they are attracting.

Scenario 2

When you’re discussing the holiday schedule with your child’s father you let him know as a simple courtesy that you’ll be coming from a holiday celebration and your child will be dressed up.  Living within your means you get her a nice dress from a store like The Children’s Place for about $25.00 using one of their kick-butt coupons.  You’re in luck because last year’s shoes still fit.  It’s nothing that breaks the bank or fires up your ego.  The day is about family and not about the outfit.  She looks darling.  If you are seeking to repair any injury from the divorce or prior clothes wars you even throw in a, “I bet your dad’s going to think you look great too.”

You head out to your family gathering and everyone tells your daughter she looks darling.  Your bitter, obnoxious man-hating sister says, “You’re not going to let her wear that over to his house are you?”  You let her know kindly you are way past that kind of petty stuff.  You create a swift transition with the conversation asking her if she’s making any new year’s resolutions or volunteering for green peace anytime soon.  Your sharp as a tack Aunt Eleanor gives you a quick wink and shares with everyone she’s added fly-fishing to her bucket list.

You’re out of the woods and can now allow your entire spine to relax back into the chair.  The rough edge you once carried around with you is gone.  You are no longer vulnerable to the tidbits of advice from everyone’s harsh interpretation of just how one should deal with the other parent.

You and Your Children Are Emotionally Free to Enjoy Your Holiday.

Binding yourself with emotional shackles will take you far off the beaten path.  It is a waste of energy and does not allow you to serve at your best.  There is something far better for you to do than create haste and store it for years as you raise your child.

Say the following paragraph out loud and see if it sounds just like who you want to be:

I am an angry witch and this is fun.  I am living the life I intended and I believe my kids are absolutely overjoyed seeing me rant and rave on a regular basis about their father.  This is pure joy!

I hope you laughed yourself onto the road of wellness.  Let’s have fun and create the “I am” you want to be.

Use Humor To Make Light Of Your Resentments.

Chances Are They Weren’t As Bad As You Made Them Out To Be.

Blissful blessings to you for a joyful holiday season.  It’s just a hippity hop from Halloween to Thanksgiving and then Sweet Baby Jesus’ Birthday.  Don’t wait for 2011 to re-frame your thoughts.  Just simply live well, be well and participate in less judgment.

Just following along with me for fun and we’ll break it down:

eka = one

pada = foot

raja = king

kapota = pigeon

So there you have it – Eka-Pada-Raja-Kapotasana minus the appropriate macron to indicate how long you hold the vowel…….but you get the idea.

It’s a pose in the third series of Astanga Yoga.  I’ve been studying the eight limbs of yoga and practicing at a lovely studio in Scottsdale, Arizona since the end of February.  By the grace of God’s will alone and the acts of kindness shared by others my 6 year-old daughter was able to tag along.  If not, my journey to finish would have been much longer.   A typically frustrating one filled with limitations that lights my fire like nobody’s busy.  This time, I got a break, a lucky one that not only impacted my life but all my girls.

Erin sat in the studio and listened to the routine of the first series for the past five months.  Then we entered into an intensive period where the language, Vedic chanting, discussing the Bhagavad Gita, writing Devanagari and Ayurvedic Philosophy were shared.  Erin followed along but her interest peaked with the language.  As the summer went by I had alternative options for her but she asked to attend the language classes and hang out with momma.

“We” (Erin and I) are all done now.  I completed an official 200-hour yoga teacher training program.  Yippie for me!  What Erin has learned is unforgettable.

I’ve always been interested in fitness wandering my way through aerobics, running, marathon training, Mat Pilates, hot yoga and in due time I belly flopped right into Dave’s Astanga Studio.  It was what I had been seeking without really knowing what to look for.  I knew of other yoga programs but they didn’t resonate with me.  The extensive periods in exotic locations and Hollywood prices made this goal as far off in my future as possible.  I didn’t know what Astanga, Vinyasa or even Sun Salutation was.  It was a safe learning environment and I suppose in retrospect I listened for several weeks before I started asking questions, which allowed me to absorb things at my own pace.  I wanted to be there and in due time the order of things began to flow.

Last week my precious girl fell off an exercise ball on bopped her head while I was running on the treadmill next to her.  She just loves to hang out with momma.  Hours later we ended up in the emergency room to seal up her gash.  Erin hasn’t had a great track record with doctors.  Just before her second birthday we discovered an infection in her gum line so we had to have one of her front teeth pulled.  After slapping the doctor and resisting the snoopy noise full of gas I watched them strap my daughter into a velcro body suit to lock her down.  The dentist, assistant and I all sat in shock as we heard the sound of the velcro peeling.  Erin was fighting with all her might to get out of that blue funny suit.  With my knee on her belly and my hand holding her neck the dentist finally tore the infected tooth out in 3 seconds.  I am grateful Erin is now at the official age where a child looses a tooth so people stop asking for her tooth story.

Last summer Erin stuck a popcorn kernel in her ear.  I tried to get it out with tweezers but she wasn’t cooperative.  I went to the drug store and got some things to flush it.   I was sure the warm water and pressure would loosen that thing up.   It was a failed attempt so we headed over to the urgent care clinic.  It was our second visit that week.  A few days earlier my oldest daughter’s reoccurring “I like soccer but I don’t like to run so my ankle hurts” injury had manifested.  Have you ever checked into your local urgent care and had the receptionist greet you as follows, “oh hey, what’s up?” “What brings you in tonight?”  We waited patiently and the attending physician tried to get it out with no success because Erin would not cooperate.  Next appointment – primary care doctor = no success.  Next attempt – ear, nose and throat specialist = no success.  Next step, surgery!  What? Yeah, that’s what I said.  So we awoke a few days later at 5:00am and headed down to the Children’s Hospital to remove one crazy popcorn kernal.  We lucked out.  The doctor had an 8:00am meeting so they wheeled her in first and had her out in 20 minutes.  She sat up in recovery eating at popsicle consoling me, “don’t worry mom.  I learned my lesson and I won’t stick anything in my ear ever again!”  “I promise!”

So there we all are, my three daughters and I, sitting in a room at the Mayo Hospital getting ready for the unexpected.  Erin’s hair is full of dry blood and she’s over anticipating the idea of stitches.  The doctor takes a look and introduces a new concept to her little mind – staples.  She began to resist and they scurried quickly for the supplies.  The doctor insisted, “Don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing!”  Erin was so worried about the act of stapling that she never turned her head to see the very long and thick needle the doctor was using to numb the area.  She started to fidget and I began to count, “ekam,” that’s the number one with a longer beat to the “e” and “k”, next is “dvi” working myself to a pattern of speech, then unexplainable space that has been incredibly calming for the both of us over these past five months.

And just then I realized the routine of counting through the Sun Salutations became a lullaby to our ears.  A time to be serious, in tune with our breath and fully present which means fear has no value.   I don’t know how many times my worries faded just three to five minutes into class as a sense of order yet play time filled the studio.

The area was numb.  Next step was the stapler.  Erin snapped out of her calm trance at the sound of the medical wrapper being torn.  She firmly told the nurse, “get that thing out of here.”  “You are not putting staples in my head!”

“Okay,” he said, as he dropped the package in the trash and handed the doctor the stapler.  “It is in the trash!”

“Good,” she replied, just as sound of the snap from the stapler went off.  “Oh my God!” she exclaimed.   “I can’t believe you just put a staple in my head!”

“Yep,” said the doctor.  “Hold still, I have two more to go.”

My oldest daughter gave me that one eyebrow up in the air astonished look which always freaks me out because for a flash of a second she looks just like her dad who gave me that look when he first laid eyes on her milliseconds after her birth.  It’s bizarre and miraculous all in the same moment.

I always handle these things well but it’s the after burn when the dust is settled that tears me up like the time that I had to chase a frog out of my house with the girls screaming and jumping around in the background.  I did it and then cried like a fool because there was no man around to help.  I had one of those pitiful conversations with God asking him why he was entrusting me to raise these three girls all by myself.  Clearly there had been a misunderstanding because I didn’t sign up for this.  Then there was the time I had to wake up before all the girls to empty the mousetraps in the kitchen before breakfast.  At this point certain things became clear.  I’m not trying to be She-ra, Rosie the Riveter or idolize Gloria Steinem anymore.  Being a single mom for several years blows chunks.  Now I’m not saying being single is bad, being a mom is bad or even being a single mom is bad.  All I’m saying is it is nice to have another adult human being to count on.

I sat across from “Staples” the next morning sorting through my options.  I had always kept the corporate job with medical insurance for all the girls.  I have three kids with two dads and neither have ever figured out or valued family health care or saving for college.   It was up to me to figure out.  Ugh, why do I have to be the frog chasing, mouse catching organizer on top off all the boring crap like unloading the dishwasher twice a day and saying useless things like “okay WHOOOOOO did NOOOOT flush the toilet?” Only to receive three replies of “it wasn’t me,” when there are only four of us in the house!

As I went down my own series of unfortunate events Erin said, “Eka-Pada-Raja-Kapotasana!”  We laughed and I remembered that the pigeon leads with his heart.  If Staples was calling out poses from the third series she was truly absorbing a lot of Sanskrit and doors will be open for her in her life because she can appreciate something most adults will never seek.  The other night she grabbed my little blue instruction book and announced we were going to do call and response.  She was going to say the animal name for a pose and I would respond in Sanskrit.  And then you arrive to a place of pure joy where you forget how many times you emptied the dishwasher or what anyone else hasn’t done.

Five years early I was afraid to date when I went through my first divorce with two little kids so I hopped (or more like face planted) into the best thing I could find.  We dated a few times and then just silently adopted a routine together which later led to a house, two dogs, two BMW’s, a marriage and another beautiful baby girl.  After a few rounds in detox he decided all of that cramped his sober lifestyle so he became a sex addict instead never really asking for a divorce.  He just acted it out until I did something about it.  There I was at 31 with three beautiful girls 8, 6 and 1 years old, a large mortgage working my corporate square to the best of my ability faced with some life altering decisions.  He blew through $75,000 in 10 months hitting every massage parlor in San Diego when he was supposed to be working with his AA sponsor.

It was time to get off this merry-go-round.  I was sick to stomach and way past dizzy.  Keeping up with, pretending and putting on a social game face while you are in a relationship with an addict is exhausting.

I was free and eventually the sun began to shine again.  I decided to give dating a shot and all types of men appeared:

There was the fixer, an older man that wanted to take care of everything for me.  We had a great conversation at dinner but on the way home I couldn’t stop thinking if this guy had a pause button = no match.

Then there was the 42 year-old bachelor that was more attracted to becoming part of a family than really putting effort into a connection with me = no match.

Then a really nice guy around my age, recently divorced, no kids but he said his mom was his best friend = no match.

Then I took a walk on the self-serving side and had an open arrangement with a guy I used to work with.  My friends nicknamed him “the visitor” and we all laughed like a bunch of school girls when I got “visited.”  A somewhat half-assed convenience for a single mom but = no match.

A few others have come along the way.  I’ve teetered from good guy to bad boy a few times trying to find what I truly desire.  I had a list of what I didn’t want long before I created a plain and simple idea of what I do want.  And with that I’ve had to spend some time alone because I’m just not compromising anymore.

What I’ve learned is dating isn’t as bad as we make it out to be.  Be very clear about what you consider a date, a relationship and a friend.  Real women aren’t engineered for friends with benefits.  We need more compassionate people in the world.  Don’t go in the opposite direction.

I’m damn certain at least one of us is going to have a good time and that’s me.

I don’t need to test drive every SUV to know which one I want.  My time can be spent on better things.

I enjoy the taste of champagne.  I don’t drink just to get drunk.  This is how I feel about sex.  Go ahead and do a word change.  

If a man has to crawl out of your bedroom window it’s not a love affair worth remembering besides flights to Las Vegas are cheap, you can make up a fake name for the weekend so he can’t cyber stalk you and you don’t have to worry about bumping into him at the local Circle K.

I’ve wanted to write about dating more often so I will.  A recent experience reminded me of how great it is to know what you want.  I have a desirable list.  After a few conversations before the date I really wasn’t interested but I didn’t cancel.  The conversation went well but he lacked the depth I’m looking for in a man.  He’s taking stabs at not wanting to be alone.  I’m not forcing square pegs into round holes.  I’m holding out for a great man and I know he’s waiting for me.  Now that’s co-creation.  There are no accidents in life.  Only experiences that bring us closer to knowing who we are.  It’s our choice to listen.

A year ago I sat with some fellow coaches who drilled me on my ideal man.  They asked me if he was the type of guy that did the dishes.  I couldn’t answer them yes or no.  I just kind of thought who cares.  “Ohhhhhh, that’s it!  That is why you are still single!” they exclaimed.  “You must know everything he does or doesn’t do to find the ideal man.”  I was a tad sour about our conversation.  I felt a little ganged up on and that dizzy merry-go-round emotional state returned.  I’ve been on a self-development journey for sometime.  I’ve invested plenty of time into adjusting, fixing, self-correcting as needed.  My intuition was telling me these gals were full of their own stuff, grasping for whatever nugget of cock and bull they could find.  What the hell else am I supposed to write out before this happens.  It’s all so planned and a little freaky to be pinpointing all of this.  How would I feel if I met my match at that exact moment and he presented me with a list of things he envisioned I did or did not do?

And then it hit me several months later when I was preparing to teach a class.  K.I.S.S. (Keep It Simple Sweetie) appeared in my notes.  I don’t care if he does do the dishes.  If the division of domestic duties needs to be part of my Big list somebody please blast me off this planet.  What is more important to me is how he handles himself when he sees dishes in the sink, toys on the floor or bed not made?  I keep a neat house simply because I enjoy and appreciate what I have therefore I take care of it.  There are few days where I also enjoy and appreciate allowing everything to go untidy.  I’d much rather have a man laugh with me than point fingers at what didn’t get done.  I’d much rather enjoy messing up the bed than worrying about who’s making it.  I’m confident it will get done.

I’ve never been more confident in my life that a great relationship is yet to come.  You can’t wish for these qualities and on the inside be trembling it will never happen.  You must first desire it, ask for it, believe in it and you will receive it.  It’s just that simple so keep it simple sweetie and have fun.

I’m off to enjoy another day of My Big Adventure.