My Attempt at the Ten Commandments

And now for those SUGGESTIONS I promised you in # 2, above.

SUGGESTION # 1:  DECIDE to change the way you think about those things you hate about yourself.

For example, I used to beat myself up with the thought “I never finish anything I start.”  I thought this was a very bad bad thing.  Maybe someone said it to me once and it stuck, I don’t know. But I used to care. I mean, I really really cared.

Until, one day, I just decided to stop caring.  My coach helped me see the light… so bright and shiny and much more flattering! So now I just don’t care.  As in, I really don’t shive a git. I really really don’t. Because the old way of thinking didn’t serve me.  All it did was make me feel bad so that I never even wanted to start anything.  Go figure. Makes no sense. But that’s what happens when we believe the lies we tell ourselves.

Here’s what makes sense to me now: I sometimes don’t finish something because I have something else more exciting and compelling to do.

I bloody well LOVE this new way of thinking.  Don’t you?  You can steal it if you like, and you don’t even have to give me credit for it.

But if you’re polite you will.

Just sayin’.

Whatev…

(See, I didn’t even finish that word. And I don’t care!)

And it’s not like I haven’t accomplished stuff in my life.  Jeesh, I could start bragging here, but…

Okay… what the hell…

SUGGESTION # 2: BRAG YOUR ASS OFF! 

Bragging is underrated. I just DECIDED that (I took my own advice in SUGGESTION # 1). If I don’t brag, at least to myself, then how will I ever appreciate all the amazing and wonderful things about me. And I’ve got some pretty damn good stuff goin’ on. I’m gonna brag, to myself, right now… so feel free to tune out.  In fact, I’m just gonna list The Ten Things I Love About Me. (If you’ve heard this before, then, you know I’m pretty darn loveable!)

Here we go.

Put on your seatbelt.

NUMBER 1: I am ridiculously smart. Ridiculously!

NUMBER 2:  I love my feet.  Seriously–look at them!

NUMBER 3:  I can say NO in every language known to mankind.

NUMBER 4:  I can hold the plank pose for 5 whole minutes!

NUMBER 5: I know whose shit is whose. 

NUMBER 6: I invented ‘Talk-Texting.” It’s a real time saver!

NUMBER 7:  My Peanut Butter Cup Pizza is an international sensation!

Okay, I quit. I know I promised you Ten Things but I’m all out.

That’s fine. Remember? I’m a quitter (in a good way), and that’s okay, because, obviously, I’ve got something more exciting and compelling to do….

Like give you SUGGESTION # 3.  You’ll recall, prior to my having distracted you with my bragging, which you may not have paid attention to, I was giving you suggestions about how to learn to love the parts of you that you think you hate. (By the way, thinking is overrated!)

Here’s the best one of all….

SUGGESTION # 3:  Join my gang.

Gang members (we call ourselves Worsties… so adorable we are) get all sorts of love and support and coaching and coupons…  (because I’m also very very nice–hey, that should go on my list!)

Speaking of lists, when you join The WORST Club (cute name, huh?) you get all sorts of value-added member benefits, including – but not limited to – my famous pizza recipe; the only lip gloss to wear when Mercury is in retrograde; hugs; validation for the wonderful person you are; smart-ass comments (I’m also soooo good at those–jeesh, I’m good at so many things!) etc. etc. etc. and so on and so forth.

I am the gang leader. When you say “take me to your leader” you’ll be taken to ME!  And I will give you a paper-clip and a cupcake –bonuses for signing up.

So join The WORST Club, and I won’t have to, you-know… kick you in the shins.

Sign up now.   HERE  

And then pass this on to two friends and then hopefully they’ll pass it on to two friends and so on and so on until the whole world knows how good I am at the plank pose.

AFGO Bustin’ Hokey Pokey Contract Drafting or: How to Save Your Life!

Run for your lives!!!! 

Wait, how do you run from your own self?  Hmmmm.

A woman I know who is in a very unhappy marriage tells me that her family is encouraging her to leave the marriage.

They’ve been telling her this for twenty years!

The reason this woman can’t leave her marriage is that her contract with herself tells her that this is where she belongs. Everything she believes about herself convinces her that she can’t leave the marriage.  Of course, she’ll tell you it’s because she can’t afford to, that her husband isn’t that bad, that she has nowhere else to go and, because of the kids. 

None of this is true, or relevant for that matter.

The truth is she cannot leave because she believes she cannot leave.  Leaving means she would have to leave her self. She can’t do that. Her self contract requires her to stay in situations (marriage, work, friendships) that reinforce the belief system she has about herself.  That this is what she deserves. This is what she is worth.

She doesn’t see that.  Instead, she has convinced herself that her husband is the problem, the kids are the problem, money is the problem, her weight is the problem.

And this is what I say to her:

You must not leave,

you cannot leave,

until you understand,

really really believe

your true worth.  

Leaving is not the answer.

Neither is staying and complaining.

The answer lies in her self contract. 

Does she even know what’s in that old thing?

No wonder she thinks staying in this marriage is her only option!  

In her mind, it’s all she deserves.  It’s all she’s capable of. It’s all she’s worth.

Even if she did leave, she’d very likely find herself in a similar relationship, UNLESS…. 

…she breaches her self contract.

In other words, she has to tell herself to go stuff herself. 

To do this she needs to re-write that smelly contract she’s been carrying around in her back pocket her whole life.  That thing seriously stinks!

So, how does one go about writing a new self contract or, what we call an AFGO BUSTIN’ HOKEY POKEY CONTRACT?

Well, it really is all in the wrist action!

Get out a pen and paper and start writing.  Write it down. Write it down. Write it all down.

Keep writing.

Hey!  Did I say you could stop?

Um…. EVERYTHING!

Write about what makes you happy.

What makes you sad.

What you like. Why don’t you have more of it?

What you don’t like.  Why do you still have it?

Who you like.

Who you don’t like yet still bother to keep in your life.

What do you believe in?

What are you values?

Do you live by your values?

What kind of daughter are you?

What kind of friend are you?

What kind of wife are you?

Are you kind-hearted?  To Everyone?

And the biggest one of all….

How (un)kind are you to your self?

How do you love YOU?

Can you list 10 things you love about yourself, like I did?

This takes some work.  Deep work.  It requires introspection.

This could take a while.

And so it should!

But when you’re done you’ll be able to do the hokey pokey and turn yourself around without even having to put your left foot in.

In other words: You’ll know exactly what you need to do in your marriage, your job, your life!

Think of the possibilities.  Don’t let fear stand in your way.

Don’t settle.

———————————–

Hey kids…  next Tuesday June 7th is the next meeting of The WORST Club.  You HAVE TO come. There will be dancing Polar Bears (the Grizzlies can’t make it, sorry).  We are going to be talkin’ ’bout AFGO BUSTIN’ Hokey Pokey Contracts.  We’ll help you write yours.  Go HERE to find out the details!

Or to Facebook, The WORST Club page, and click LIKE.  Because you like me. Admit it!

How I Make Myself Small

Can you see me in this picture?

No?  Ok, let me zoom in a little.

Can you see me now?

Wait… how about now?  Does this help?

I guess we’re going to need a magnifying glass for this one.

Yeah, that’s me alright. Looking all small and everything. It’s the price I pay for not saying no.

Damn!

But what if they get mad? What if they think I’m rude? What if they never speak to me again? What if they tell everyone else to not speak to me again?

WHAT IF THEY WANT TO KILL ME?

Wait… didn’t I already kill them? And everyone else?

Damn damn damn.

Damn those what ifs. 

What if I promise to never say what if ever again?

What if I just calm down, re-group, get clear and then decide what to do? Without adding a but or a what if?

What if I just make it my priority to listen to this unsettling feeling in my gut that’s telling me I just need to say no.

WHAT IF I JUST SHOOT MYSELF?

&*%$#%%%%%%%%%%%%!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It’s sooooooo much easier to give someone else advice.  To make it sound like it’s so simple to do this or do that. To tell them to 

just

say

NO.

After all, isn’t one of the ten things I love about me  that I can say no in all of the world’s languages?

All of them.

Except English apparently.

WHISKEY TANGO FOXTROT!!!!!!

Once again I have let the shoulds trump the wants.

And I have waited too long to say yes or no.

Now what?

Well, I’ve been stewing all night. Should vs. Want.

should-want-should-want-should-want-should-want

me-them-me-them-me-them-me-them-me-them

Yeah, I know what I have to do.

Grow up.  Say no.  

Even when it’s (really really really) hard.  And apologize to myself for not paying closer attention to the signals I was getting (from myself!) that no was the way to go.

Saying ‘yes’ because it’s too hard to say ‘no’ is a cop-out. 

Thanks for listening.

You’re all very good at that. 

(whew, that was an AFGO!)

———-

Hey, guess what?  I am officially certified by super bad-ass weight loss/life coach Brooke Castillo.  Check it out!

I’m also doin’ my thang over at Mom Gets A Life.   Moms, you just have to go there.  Because I said so. Sign up and tell them I sent you.

AND…. don’t forget to drop me a line over at The WORST Club…. you can show up in your slippity slippers and your hair all gone wild and we’ll love you even more.  Show up at your WORST–post a question or concern and we’ll rally ’round to help you out.  Or you can do the same for someone else.   We’re not going for ‘best’… just ‘better’.  After all, this ain’t Oprah!

oh… and… guess what else? (do I not sound like I’m FIVE?)…

The new website is almost done.  We’re just stocking it up with candy. And no-cal peanut butter cups.  Who else would do that for you?

So stand by, you stunning  super shiny soul freaks.  (Do you  know how to do The Freak?  If not, brush up… it’ll come in handy with all the other cool dance moves we’ll be learning together real soon)

Ho’oponopono. Huh?

One of my favorite BFFs, Jeannette Maw, once said one of the strangest things.

Ho’oponopono.  

 

At first I thought she was suppressing a burp.  

Turns out Ms. Maw was describing an ancient Hawaiian teaching called Huna, and Ho’oponopono is one of its principles.

Still…..

In a nutshell, (because that’s about the extent of my understanding so far)  Ho’oponopono (pronounced: ho’oponopono – yeah, I know), is all about forgiveness within the family. 

It’s about bringing a family–and all of its nut-bag members–to a place of forgiveness… for all their messed-up ways. 

Because, in Polynesian cultures, many believe that one’s so-called errors and the subsequent guilt can cause illness. 

The way to counter the illness is to confess the error.

One who fails to confess dies.

And after the confession comes atonement.

A heartfelt request for forgiveness is made. It goes something like:

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Thank you

This is the pono part of the deal.

Or is it the nopo?

As if I know.  

But, once the confession and apology are made, the illness loses its power.

And therein lies the healing.

Ho’oponopono is all about healing. 

The transgressor, a.k.a. the ding-dong, bad guy, family jerk, black sheep, num-nut … is healed.

The whole family is healed.

So, here’s what I think (I know you sooooo wanna know what I’m thinking!)…

When you put out a good vibe, you have the power to heal.  Your self, your family, your world.

And it’s your job on this planet to put out a good vibe.  You can’t show up to the party (your life!) and just sit in the corner (yes, I just used the party-life metaphor… deal!) and then expect everyone else to bring you cake! (In this case cake is a metaphor for joy, but it also includes actual cake. Because I definitely go to parties for the cake, which, oddly enough, is never found in the corner.)

 

 

Actually, it’s not an either or thing.

You can have your joy… and eat it too.  Nah… that makes no bloody sense.  But I have a feeling you know what I’m talking about.

Because you’re a freak… like me. 

You love cake. And joy. And life.

And you want to do better. Be better.

You want to just Do. Be. Do. Be. Do.

Don’t worry… we’re getting there. 

Now go forth and put out a good vibe, like my BFF Jeannette Maw, a master of creating good vibes. In fact she runs an entire university that teaches you how to be a good viber.

And if necessary, do some of that ho’oponopono stuff with/on/to your family.

Heal thyself, my fellow freaks!

———-

Guess what? I’m having a cake party! This Tuesday, May 3, 1 pm Eastern, 10 am Pacific, where we’ll moan and complain for one whole minute about the non-joys of life, then brainstorm for the remaining 59 about how to put some party (and cake) back into your life.  You can even stay in your pajamas. Bring a cuppa somethin’… I’ll provide some peach upside down cake (because everything I bake ends up on the floor, upside down!). 

For more deets, go here.  

———————————————————————–

Newsflash:  I have joined the gals over at Mom Gets A Life  where my friend Patty Lennon is launching a website where moms can learn all about ‘me-time’.  Go there. It’ll be fun. In that freaky way we like it.

Why Everybody Must Die.

The hard part about growing up is that eventually, you have to kill Everybody. 

Before Everybody kills you. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love Everybody (even when I don’t like them much).  But things just aren’t working out between me and Everybody anymore.  It’s not Everybody’s fault. Because Everybody does exactly what They are supposed to do.  Everybody is perfect at being Everybody. 

And so are They.

Hence…..

Yup. They have to go too.

Too bad. So sad.  

But… worrying about what Everybody and They think can send a girl into a tailspin.

I hate when That happens.

Speaking of That…

Sometimes That gives me a lot of Sh!t.  

And so…

New Rule:

I’m not taking That Shit anymore!

And I want Everyone to respect my choices.

But, since Everyone does what Everybody says….

 Sorry Everyone.  I had to do it.  You refused to find a way to respect my decisions.

I tried to tell Them. I really did. But it was impossible for Them to understand. What mattered to Them was that I do it just like Them, see it just like Them, think just like Them, act just like Them.  

Can you guess what happens next?

I really really hate to see Them go.  I love Them too, as much as I love Everybody.  

Darn Them!  

So…

…what happens when you kill Everybody and Everyone and They, Them, and That (including That’s Shit)?

Well, at first, it feels like this:

Yeah, it kinda sucks like that. This ‘taking your power back’ stuff isn’t always easy.  But it’s what you need to do if you want to live life on your terms.

And then, slowly, you notice this new feeling.

The tightness is your chest begins to ease. You feel lighter.  Your other relationships improve.  The ones that really matter to you.

You might even start to feel…

Happy.  Free.  In charge of your own life. 

And then… here’s the really fun part….

You find a new Everybody.

And a new Everyone.

And a new Them, They, and That.  And the really cool part is, because you took your power back by slaying ‘you know’, the new people and things in your life will be just right for you.  

They will lift you up. Higher. And higher.

Oops, I almost forgot one.

You are going to love The New You. In fact, she’s why you got all those other icky people out of your life in the first place. You took your power back.

It starts with You.

And Me, of course.

It all about Me.

Your turn. 

Who’s your Everybody?

Is it time to take back your power? 

‘Anger Hell’ Really Pisses Me Off!!!

Anger is overrated.

Anger is what we do when we’re lazy about our feelings.  When we can’t be bothered to go deeper to figure out what’s really going on inside our heads.

And it’s often not at all about what it seems to be on the surface.

But…

If….

(and it’s a really big if)

…we can catch ourselves before the ‘ROARRRRR’….

And just get curious about what’s really going on… about what’s REALLY buggin’ you…

No. No. No. Don’t fall for that. That’s just a trick your mind is playing on you to save you the effort of digging deeper. Your mind wants to stay angry, because it can’t be bothered to do the heavy lifting required to figure this out.

But if you could just ask….

“What’s going on inside my head?” 

You might just find out something your mind has been working very hard to get you to ignore.  It wants you to look on the outside, to blame someone else, something else.

I know, I know, it’s so much easier to be mad at other people, even if you don’t even remember why you’re mad.  

But if you let it, your mind will keep you in Anger Hell.  Forever. 

And that just blows.

You know, the WORST Mother can get very lazy about what’s going on inside her head.

Because, sometimes, it can look like this…

“What’s all that SH!T doing inside my head??????????????????”… the WORST mother asks, trying really hard to get curious.

“WAIT!”… she says, suddenly full of curiosity. (She’s so good at becoming curious!)

“That looks like the inside of my closet” …she will often say, completely and utterly perplexed.

“And my car”… she adds, scratching her head.

“And my make-up drawer“… she moans, curiosity giving way to frustration.

“And my frig”… she says, raising her voice, as she teeters into a pissed off state.

“And my pantry”…she exclaims with vehemence and exasperation and a whole bunch of other emotions that rhyme with discombobulation.

Ruh. Roh.  

“And my life!!!” 

“$%#@”… she explodes. So much for curiosity. (I said she was good at getting curious… staying there is another matter.)

Bless her heart. She tries. 

But then….. eventually…

Ah-haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Some relief.  A letting go.

Surrender.

And suddenly, a voice inside her head breaks through all the clutter and says…

Seize the AFGO… a.k.a. 

Another. Freakin’. Growth. Opportunity.

An opportunity to shift.

To get back to curious.

To get to know yourself.

To grow up.

Seize it, dammit.

Because anger is not a very sophisticated emotion. Especially when it’s used defensively.

And it’s often just a cover up.  A catch-all emotion.  For when you can’t be bothered to get to know yourself.

Or to find out what’s really buggin’ you.

Take the time to FEEL what’s behind the anger.

Because it’s not about the dog.

Or the kids.

Or the husband.

It’s about the sh!t you say to yourself that is not very nice.  

It’s always about you.  It’s about how you hurt you.

Isn’t that perfect? 

Isn’t that such a relief?

Lose the anger.

Make friends with yourself.

Seize the AFGO.

And never settle for anger again.

——

*Today’s post was brought to you by the emotions anger, frustration and all the ones that rhyme with discombobulation. 

 

The Seven Laws of Me. But You Can Copy.

All mothers compare themselves to other mothers.  At least it seems that way to me. More than anything we want to pass (with flying colors) the ‘good mother’ Seal of Approval and have it ceremoniously bestowed upon us by our fellow moms.  Our happiness, our very lives depend on it.  In fact, winning the hearts of other moms is why we became mothers in the first place.  Right? We need recognition.

We need awards.

When I got this award (maybe I dreamt the whole thing, I can’t be sure) I made copies of it and mailed it to everyone I know so that they could know what an amazing mom I was.

With the 600 copies I made for myself, I framed each one and put them on every wall in each room of the house.  Some walls had multiple copies. They really did add to the decor of my house.

This was my evidence. My proof. Lawyers love evidence and proof and innocence and guilt and laws and stuff.

But I was afraid. Not just because the award told me to be afraid (read the fine print), which freaked me out, but what if I really couldn’t live up to it? What if the President Of Moms came to take it away?

And besides, I wanted all my dreams to come true. The award promised me that.

That is why I could never admit to anything like this:

Or this…

Some days the award loomed over me like a giant cloud of big black smokey toxic poop. (Now there’s a simile.)

Until…

I took the law into my own hands.

I decided to re-write the unwritten Laws of Motherhood and Everything Else (don’t try to look them up because they are not written anywhere… I checked). Only mine are actually written down. There are seven of them because it seems there are always seven laws (The Seven Habits, The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success, etc.)  and the bible also makes a big fuss over the number seven; the seven heavens, the seven thrones, the seven seals, the seven churches.  So, I’m going with…

 The Seven Laws of ME!

1.   I shall stop all whining and complaining. It makes me look like a gnu. Which would be fine if I were actually a gnu. (Could I have been a gnu in another lifetime?)

2.   I shall laugh often, like, at least SEVEN times for SEVEN minutes for a total of 77 units of laughter per day.  Pshaw–easy peasy. But not always.

3.   I shall remember that there is no ‘grrrr’ in ‘NO‘.  See number 1.  So… I will just say no. Period. Explaining is optional. Growling and muttering is not.

4.   I will be extra kind to at least one old person each day. That adds up to seven(!) each week.  This is to let them know they still matter. This is very important to me. Otherwise, I shall always be kind, at the very least, to everybody and I will offer hobos a snack. This is almost three rules in one.  No, it’s exactly two rules in one. Whatever–random acts of kindness have a butterfly effect.  When I find myself not being kind I shall rewind and make it right. Or no TV for me. 

5.   Stop chasing those cute little bunnies.  Or not. It doesn’t matter. I get to decide.  Especially since 2011 is the Chinese Year of the Bunny.

6.   Do some crazy sh!t.  Renew renew renew! It’s not over until… it’s never over.

7.   I shall set a good example.  In fact, am I not doing this right now?

Those are my own personal seven laws.  I will probably make up some new ones next Tuesday or Wednesday or Thursday, which are the days I do my best thinking. I wrote this on a Thursday.  Is it not brilliant?

So… what are The Laws of YOU?

Why I Decided Not To Kill Laverne, Again!

Things have been pretty quiet around here lately. Shirley‘s been away on vacay somewhere.  And Laverne? Well, I thought Laverne was gone for good.

Big mistake.

Laverne, my inner dictator, always tries to be the boss of me, bless her twisted little heart. Unlike Shirley, she rules with an iron fist.  She uses words like “should” and “have to” and “supposed to.“

She’s a virtual lunatic. And she’s green.

Ugh!

What’s crazy is that I don’t even know Laverne’s there until it becomes painfully obvious.

To everyone.

But me.

I have actually tried to kill Laverne on many occasions.  And just when I think she’s gone for good…

… she keeps coming back.

Like zits on a teenager’s face.

The thing about Laverne is, she really and truly believes she’s helping me. She refuses to die, not because she likes to torment me, but because she’s afraid for me.  She believes my survival depends on her.

In a warped, mangled, creepy, green alien sort of way.

Well, that sh!t’s got to stop.

Here’s how.

First of all, I’m going to give up my murderous tactics. Hell, the girl just won’t die so I might as well throw that towel in and save myself some  brain cells.

Next – and this is going to freak her out — I’m going to invite her to come back whenever she feels like dropping by to check up on me.

Yes, Laverne, drop by and stay awhile.

In fact, I insist.

Because I understand that you’re just trying to look out for me.  That you’re doing the best you can with what you know and that some day, when you know better, you’ll do better. You’ll relax.  But guess what? I know better, and I want to prove to you that I can manage without your scare tactics and threats and limes and coconuts.

When you start with the should’s and have to’s and supposed to’s I’m not going to listen.  I’ll hear you but I won’t be listening.  There’s a big difference.

Because I want to look after me… and you.  It must be hard work worrying about me all the time, trying to get me to do the stuff you think I should do.  Even though we’re one and the same, we’re really not.

I’ve been watching you and you really do not bring out the best in me.  I know you mean well, but… um… you suck at being me!

So, I’m ready to go it alone, and I invite you to stick around and watch me. You may want to interject from time to time but I’m just going to have to shush you whenever you start acting up. But it will be a loving shush. I promise I won’t try to kill you anymore.

A simple thank you would’ve been nice.

Now, go sit in the corner, put your feet up, and stay awhile.

And shush!

I got your back.

Laverne?

Laverne!

LAVERNE!!!!!

This post was brought to you by the Save Laverne Society.

Total membership: 1

And dwindling fast.

——-