Archive for ‘Inspirational Stories’

February 24th, 2010

2010 Cloudy With a Chance of Sunshine?

This year was beginning to feel like a flop. The kind that reminds me of my little bunny and how he runs and jumps and then in pure animal fatigue, flops down as if saying, “I’m tired. Now leave me alone!”

That’s how I was feeling too. With being unable to say good-bye to my 14 year old sheltie before she was put to sleep, moving and with a few disappointments, upsets and struggles here and there, I was starting to wonder if the belief that God gives you only as much as you could handle was wrong.

It’s only February and I was already starting to think, “Okay. I had enough!”

Yet, the sun poked through, finally finding it’s way back home. New clients, better opportunities and finally settling in has gradually made 2010’s outlook not so bad after all.

I realized, however, that while those external circumstances have helped me a great deal in seeing the silver lining, staying positive and hopeful are what got me through the worst of it.

Everyone goes through hard times. Yet, there are some that can transform the most challenging situations into opportunities to grow and strengthen one’s faith.

It’s not easy.

Sometimes I think it’s easier to stay in the dark shadows and complain about our situation than it is to step out into the sunlight. Because if we take that risk and take responsibility for our life, there’s no one left to blame but ourselves.

Stepping out of my situation, while painful, is the only real solution to walking an inspired life. I can sit and wait for life to be good to me or I can stand up and risk everything to feel truly alive.

I think I’ll choose the latter. How about you?


February 18th, 2010

The Most Extraordinary Things in Life Are Most Ordinary

I apologize for being MIA as of late. My dad’s been in town from Hawaii and we’ve been hopping from Yosemite to Sonoma to San Francisco, giving “Amazing Race” a run for it’s money.

I did get oodles and oodles of photos and material for my blog. But more on that later.

One of the gifts of my dad’s trip was something I already knew, but had the opportunity to re-learn: Sometimes the most extraordinary moments in life are the most ordinary.

I can honestly say that the memories that give me goosebumps were surprisingly not the snowcapped mountaintops or the view of the bay during sunset. Although both in retrospect could easily bring tears to my eyes.

What actually sticks out in my mind are two rather ordinary moments that happened when we weren’t visiting the sights. Sorry Half Dome and Fisherman’s Wharf. Looks like sitting at home and walking around Trader Joe’s wins this race!

When I think back to the whirlwind of my dad’s visit, I smile when I think of the times we were sitting still instead of racing on. One moment occurred even when I wasn’t in the room.

I was taking a shower and through the running water, heard a simple sound that made me think we could have spent the whole time sitting around. It was the sound of my dad and husband’s laughter. Honestly, that sound was worth more than the 4 hour trip to Yosemite or the museum we waited 2 hours and a mound of kids for.

They were talking over their love of the guitar. My dad sitting on our only guest bed-an air bed from Target and my husband cross-legged on the ground. And the two laughing about simple things like strumming. It was a moment worth its weight in gold. A moment to be treasured.

The second moment was surprisingly even more ordinary than the first one. Walking around Trader Joe’s picking out trail mix and pointing out my favorite chips. There was just something so safe, familiar and touching about the moment. The cashier even offered us a sample of the chocolate chip cookies I was eyeing. Not a scene that would make it to a movie because of its ordinariness, but one I will store away for a rainy day.

Maybe it’s a reminder for all of us to put as much love, attention, focus and energy on celebrating every day not just the so-called big ones.

February 4th, 2010

In Search of an Authentic Life

I’ve been going through a weird parallel universe thing where my internal life and external situation have been mimicking each other. A great example is this horrendous move. For 5 years we stayed in the same place. Partly because it was comfortable and safe and partly because the thought of moving and packing 5 years of our stuff made my skin crawl.

But then suddenly safe and comfy didn’t feel so comfortable anymore. We’d outgrown our tiny apartment. And picking up and starting over seemed less scary than it did before.

I expected it to be hard but, what I didn’t expect was HOW hard it would be! This move was probably the hardest I’ve ever had to go through. It seemed like I was uncovering every dark disgusting creature inhabiting hell. Suddenly, slugs, pincher bugs and spiders were coming out from every nook and cranny of our now empty apartment.

I spent 5 hours, which felt more like 5 years, vacuuming, spraying and scrubbing every dusty, musty corner I could find. I realized I had been living in filth without realizing it.

How did I not get smothered in dust when the air vent above us was caked in thick layers of the stuff?

We never had it cleaned once-once in 5 years!

My husband helped me make the connection when I asked him why we had to go through all of that stress especially since we moved a mere 5 minutes away from our old place.

He said, “Maybe we were living in denial for all those years and suddenly we’re seeing things for what they really are.”

His matter-of-fact tone in saying something so profound is what I love about him most.

I suddenly realized that all the crap I discovered while cleaning our old place was kind of like the crap I was denying in other areas of my life. Suddenly, I was uncovering it and it wasn’t a pretty sight. There were bugs crawling and dust piling up on areas in my life that desperately needed my attention.

While I’m glad for the awakening, I’m ecstatic that we finally finished the move. And in my new place (both internally and externally), I feel like I can finally start living a more authentic life, the kind of life I was supposed to be living-dust and bug free.

February 1st, 2010

Ode to Meeko

When I saw Marley & Me the movie, I cried so hard in the theatre that I feared people would think I was crazy.  The story reminded me of my own Marley-a 14 year old black and white sheltie Meeko.  Crazy, rambunctious, and yet loving as hell.

It wasn’t love at first sight when I saw her though.  She was bald and pink when I met her.  Kind of like a rat.  And even weeks later when we brought her home, a tiny ball of fur, black button eyes with a tinge of blue, we weren’t all taken with her.  For one thing, we never had a dog before.  My mom only allowed me to have one because I had asked Santa for one every year since I was 7 years old.  She even warned me, “Don’t think I’m going to take care of it.  It’s your dog!”

I even questioned how much I really wanted a dog after taking care of her for a few months.  She was loud, barked at and bit everything and would cry all night unless I lay down next to her holding her paw.

We had her for a year and she still drove us up the wall.  By that time, my mom warned me she would take her to the pound or return her to its original owners.  We didn’t know what to do with this wild, hyper dog and she didn’t know what to do with us either.

My mom even tried to take her to puppy training class only to be told that Meeko was “too wild” for even the beginners.  She nearly gave me a heart attack once when she saw another dog and ran so fast her collar slipped off her neck and almost ran right into the road.  Meeko also ran around in circles and barked loudly whenever someone would leave so we would have to spell out words like, “I-M G-O-I-N-G” so she wouldn’t get upset.

Oh and the walls!  She bit her way through our walls and made deep holes in them.  In later years, she would dig through garbage, suitcases, bags and anything that could possibly hold a treat.  I had to stop bringing home chocolate for fear she would eat them all and get sick.

Yet, with all of her craziness, I fell in love.  When she was about the size of my head, Meeko would curl up on top of it at night while I was sleeping.  I think she did it to feel the cool breeze coming from my window.  I loved it even when she slipped once and scratched my eyelid the night before my high school class pictures would be taken.  Or the time when I woke up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and when I returned to my dark bedroom freaked out when I felt something furry next to me.

Surprisingly after some time, my mom and her boyfriend Ray fell in love.  My mom has thanked me on several occasions for bringing Meeko into her life.  She said, “Meeko has opened my heart to loving again.”

It’s kind of funny how this 25-pound rascal of dog came in to our lives and rescued us.  It’s just how she loved us every day unconditionally.  How she would run up to the window when she heard our car come home, or run up to you to give you a hug, tail wagging.  How she would sigh in annoyance when I would pick her up or sit right in front of the TV so you’d pay attention to her.

Funny how a stinky little dog can capture your heart like that.  She brought us 14 years of joy, craziness and above all, she taught us love.  I’d say that was a big feat for a small dog.

Meeko

1995-2010

January 9th, 2010

A Shift in Perspective Can Mean More Than a Better Attitude But a Chance for a New Outcome

For the past week I’ve been fighting a cold. I say fighting because not only was my body fighting germs, but I was fighting with myself (Do nothing and feel guilty vs. Do something and stay sick longer).

In the end, I fought the urge to be productive and succumbed to the highly seductive task of sleeping in, not exercising and reading.

What did I learn?

It was a lot harder to do nothing than it would have been if I had gone to zumba for an hour every day like I normally would. And in the end, I did do a few crafts and exercise a few days last week.

But what I learned was that the most difficult part was shifting my perspective from, “If I don’t do anything, my world will come crumbling down” to trusting that everything was already working fine without me and would continue to do so whether I was working or sleeping.

Instead of working half-butt on my biz with minimal energy, I focused inward on the self-doubt and anxiety that started to arise when I was doing nothing. I meditated, read Martha Beck and stared off in space a lot.

And somewhere in between, I had a sudden feeling of peace and assurance that my business wouldn’t fail if I took a break. That what was lacking in my job search and query writing was faith. I needed to learn how to trust that everything would work out in the end. And that I could really only do so much.

If I was going to get the clients I wanted to work with and the jobs that inspired me, I realized that I needed to start with a relaxed state of mind. Desperation, anxiety and fear were only going to attract negative energy and situations to me. I know because it already had, in the past.

And you know what?

A week has passed. I am no longer sick. I am well-rested, refreshed, optimistic and have a whole slew of potential clients just from this past week.

The best part? I don’t have to worry anymore. Because when I wasn’t looking, the world kept turning and going along just fine, without me.

January 5th, 2010

Do You Believe In Magic?

[Disclaimer: If you’ve got kids in the room, it may be a good idea to read this later.]

Do you remember when Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy were as real and good as ice-cream? When there was the feeling that anything was possible? When imagination and magic were every bit as real as anything we learned in school.

I have fond memories of those days. Even if one of my aunts did ruin it for me when she let me in on the truth about S.C. It’s why I answered, “Cause it’s magical,” when my cousin asked, “Why do you like Disneyland SO much?!”

What happened to the magic?

Does it still exist today and every day?

Cynics would say no. And I’d have to say so would most people. As we grow out of childhood, we begin to lose that whimsical cloud of possibility and instead grasp on to what we believe is real.

But who are we to know what’s really real?

A few weeks ago, after I wrote this post, I sent an email out to an old friend wishing her the best, hearing that she recently got married. I hadn’t spoken to her in years. Although I didn’t receive any response and did not expect any, I got a weird, random answering machine message that day.

It was a message with one of those mechanical voices. It said, “I’m sorry…” Now I’m 100% positive that it wasn’t from her but it was the apology I needed and the universe, I believe, somehow sent it to me.

Another incident happened recently that made me rethink the possibility of magic in every day life.

My husband and I have been thinking of moving. There was a certain apartment we had in mind. It was bigger than our place now and a little less expensive. The huge plus was that it had a den-the perfect place to work on my freelance writing business.

I was so excited that I started visualizing what the place would look like after we moved in. I envisioned sitting at my desk, looking out the window and imagining all the exciting new opportunities and experiences we’d have there.

You can imagine my disappointment when the apartment manager told me that the place was no longer available. Another renter beat us to the punch, securing the apartment with a deposit. Upon inquiry, I learned that the guy was debating between a 1 and 2 bedroom apartment.

At that point, I was pretty upset. My husband started to focus on other apartments. But I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

I started imagining my own reality (albeit a seemingly delusional one). In my fantasy, I envisioned that the other guy decided the 2 bedroom was better for him, which resulted in him canceling the hold on the 1 bedroom apartment. Lastly, I imagined that the apartment managers would reduce the rent price. I painted a pretty highly unlikely situation. One, in which, my husband reacted by giving me a sad, goofy look. I could easily imagine him thinking, “My poor delusional wife.”

Yet, you won’t believe what happened next!

A few days later, the apartment management contacted me. The guy canceled the hold on the apartment, got the 2 bedroom place instead AND they reduced the price!

I was thrilled. Magic, schmagic! Uh-uh. This dream actually came true.

My dear husband’s response?

“How’d you do that?!”

Okay I know I’m no Nostradamus and what happened can hardly be called a miracle. Or could it? I think tiny miracles may be occurring every day. We just have to take the time and notice.

It’s funny what a little hope and faith can do…

How about you? Any stories of every day magic you’ve experienced lately? Please share them here!

December 13th, 2009

Why Walt Disney Inspires Me

Yesterday I had the great fortune of attending the Disney museum. But I didn’t have to go all the way to Disneyland or Disney World to get there. Lucky for me, the Walt Disney Family museum was in my neighborhood. Just an hour drive away from home, in the Presidio area of San Francisco.

I was initially skeptical. Hmmm…Disney in San Francisco? How Disney could it be? A long time fan of the two parks, I definitely had my doubts.

But I’m happy to report that not only was the museum entertaining, it was INSPIRING!

So what did I get for $20?

Although gone was the fantasy engendered by magical cast members and edible food, there was something well worth the price of admission.

I developed a keen sense that Walt Disney was a man of dreams, dignity and determination. Three D’s I previously didn’t know went with Disney.

Hearing audio recordings of his family life, watching videos and reading historical accounts of his life, I felt the birth of a dream and the fascinating man behind the mouse.

Who was Walt E. Disney?

1. Someone who had supportive parents. Haven’t ever met the guy, I can’t say for sure. But based on the museum, I’d say he was a boy who was lucky to have parents who supported his dream. His family though poor, paid for him to attend classes at an art institute.

2. Passionate about his craft. Disney fell in love with drawing as a kid and continued to draw and create cartoons. He was a cartoonist for his school newspaper and continued to focus on his artistic career throughout his life.

3. Optimistic and positive attitude. There many times in Disney’s career that people tried to take advantage of him. Yet, he kept going because he was positive and optimistic about the future.

4. He learned from his mistakes. At the beginning, Disney made a lot of mistakes. He signed contracts without reading them and trusted people he shouldn’t have. He lost a lot of money by doing so, but being the smart guy he is, quickly learned from his mistakes. To him, a mistake was just a little blimp in his path.

5. Someone who surrounded himself with positive peeps. To be as successful as he was, it would behoove Mr. D to surround himself with supportive people. And he did. He held a party at Disneyland to celebrate his wedding anniversary with friends and family and only those people he liked to be with.

6. He kept going. Disney could have stopped as a cartoonist, or as a film producer. He would have been successful enough by then. But he kept going. He persevered through war, times of uncertainty, and people who betrayed him and then created Disneyland. Now that’s inspiring!

7. He was kind to others. A young actress who worked with Disney said it was a joy to be around him. He never criticized her and was supportive. Former employees said if you saw Disney around the company’s campus, you could go up to him and talk with him about anything. That’s just the kind of guy he was.

8. He never forgot those who helped him. There is a story of how one woman helped him when he was just starting out. He never forgot her and would help support her for the rest of her life. He remembered the people who was there for him and gave back in return.

9. He kept young at heart. Disney had a life-size train right in his backyard. The 1/2 mile route went around his home. I loved seeing the joy in his eyes as he rode around on the train with his family.

I didn’t know Walt Disney, but I wish I did. Something tells me, he’d be a mentor and a hero. Whenever I feel like giving up, I’ll remember Mr. Disney, his vision, and how from an idea he made Disneyland!

December 11th, 2009

What's so Inspiring about the Holidays?

Cold weather, angry drivers and packed malls are more than enough reasons to say, “Bah! Humbug! when the Christmas season comes rolling along. It’s actually one thing my Jehovah’s witness girl friend likes about her religion. No long shopping lists and late night runs to the mall for her. No pressure. No crazy spending.

Even though we celebrate Christmas every year, this year we decided to follow suit by making things a whole lot simpler. With the economy and my smaller income as a freelance writer, we’ve downsized our holiday.

This means no going to Hawaii to visit friends and family, which ends up saving us about $1200. Though we’ll miss our loved ones greatly and the warm weather, we know it’ll be just as nice in January when prices go down significantly.

It also means less stress having to buy gifts before the 25th.

And although I’m feeling a little sad about not spending time with my Hawaii clan, I am looking forward to a less chaotic Christmas. No more worrying about which family we’re seeing this year, which party to go to and if we’ll have time to visit everybody and their kids.

This year it’s just me and the husband, oh and our little pet bunny.

I think I’m going to savor the simplicity. Remembering what is inspiring about the holidays. The hope for the new year. The gratitude for the year past. And the excitement that exists in the now.

Without having to spend my time, energy and money on material things. It almost makes me glad for the economy being the way it is. Maybe we can all relearn the fun of being together, to appreciate our friends and family and remember the importance of loving each other during the holidays.

That’s my hope anyway.

December 8th, 2009

Passionate about Portland

My husband inspired this entry.

In Portland, after visiting with friends and family he said, “Don’t you think it’s inspiring?”

“What’s inspiring?” I asked.

“The way people in Portland care so much about what they do. How they take their time to make the best coffee or beer or craft.”

I never thought much about it in great detail until he brought it up. But he was right. Portlanders did care and it showed. It explained why it took so long to get a cup of joe, the artisans crafting it were putting passion in a cup. In fact, it took awhile to get everything there. And there was something else-being unique seemed to be treasured.

The City of Roses even have a slogan for their city, “Keep Portland weird.” It got me thinking-wouldn’t it be great if we all had that as our personal motto and brought that level of passion, creativity and individuality to everything we did? What an amazing thing to be accepted for your uniqueness and cherished for your craft.

I think it’s an important reminder for everyone to keep growing, learning and pushing past what’s familiar and easy to bring the best of ourselves to each situation every day. I don’t know about you but that’s something I’d aspire to.

Hot cocoa in Portland

November 12th, 2009

What Inspired Me About Being a Reporter

I originally posted this on my professional website but thought it also applies here. Even if you’re not a writer, you may be going through self-doubt and insecurity about your chosen career. Read how the process of being a newspaper reporter helped me get over my own fears.

Reporter Notes

photo by: RogueSun Media

I say “acting” because that’s what all writers feel at some point in their careers. That we are all acting, pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes, pretending that we are actual writers when there are days we wonder if we’ll ever really deserve the title.

That’s how I felt on the days I put on my mask and became “the journalist.” Since I got my degree in English not Journalism, I wear that badge with both fear and trepidation. I don’t want anyone thinking that I (god forbid!) am a real reporter less they mock my writing style, scrutinize my copy and laugh behind my back at my poor attempt at journalistic prose. After all, I’m not a real reporter, am I?

While undercover in my sad attempt to protect my weary heart from public attack, I still learned a great deal about life. Whether we admit it or not, the process of writing enables us to become the role we fear-a writer. The amazing thing is that when I learn to accept the possibility of the position, I learned a great deal about myself and about life. Here’s what I absorbed from walking in the shoes of a reporter:

  1. You’ll always wonder if you did enough. I may have interviewed hundreds of people including my list of “must-interview” and stayed longer at an event than I need to, but I’ll still wonder as I’m walking away, “Did I do enough?”
  2. Which brings me to #2…In the words of Kenny Rogers, “you’ve got to know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em, know when to walk away, know when to run.” Whether you are on your upteenth time of editing your manuscript or rereading your query or staying longer than you should at an event you’re covering because of self-doubt, there is a point when you just need to say, “Okay. I’ve done all I can and now I need to let go and see what happens.”
  3. I’m not special. Okay I might be special to my family and to my friends but to the average Joe, a reporter is just a person with a notepad and pen that’s as appealing as a mosquito in a sleeping person’s ear. While some may flock to you because they want their ten minutes of fame, others can’t be bothered. Did you ever hear Five for Fighting’s song Superman? Basically it’s a sob story about how even superheroes have their bad days. Some days being a writer makes me feel like a superhero leaping over harsh criticism and self-doubt and then I’ll ask a question to someone who can’t be bothered and then I’m suddenly back on the ground.
  4. That life happens in mundane things. Sure there are events that are big, profound and life changing. But I’m learning that it’s the anniversaries, festivals and day-to-day activities between people that makes up a life. Those are the stories that remind me life is more than just events, it’s the people and the relationships that are most moving and that can really change one’s life.
  5. When everything else fails, use your intuition. I’m always extra prepared before I enter an interview for a magazine or an event for a newspaper. I’ve been known in fact to bring two tape recorders, a bag full of batteries and pens, just in case. I also write down questions to every possible person I should interview and could meet. Here’s what I learned. Life never happens the way you plan. In the situation where I over-prepared for the interview with several tape recorders and batteries, none actually worked! When I entered a room filled with people, my original questions went unanswered. But that was a good thing. In the first scenario, I used my intuition and focused on my interviewee and stopped worrying about the tape and in the second, I learned to trust my instincts. While I did talk to my primary resources, I also let go of the idea that I needed to interview everybody and instead focused on being in the moment. The result was that I got valuable information from people I had not intended to meet.
  6. Fake it and it will come. As writers, we are often our worst enemy. We sabotage our abilities not because we don’t have them but because of our insecurities. Here’s what I discovered. If you pretend that you are a writer/reporter, no one will know the difference, least of all you. The thing is, we already have the desire, the ability and the skill, what’s lacking usually is our faith. Fake it and with time the confidence will come.