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Satisfied

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Many of you know, that thanks to my sister Kelsey, I am currently obsessed with the musical Hamilton. (If you click that link you will be taken to a YouTube of the Hamilton song, Satisfied). 

I’ve been listening to this musical for about a month. I wake up singing it in the morning. I’ve always liked musicals, but I wouldn’t say I’m a connoisseur of musical theater. I simply listen to music and musicals I like.

In the song Satisfied, Angelica is making a toast to her sister, Eliza, on her marriage to Alexander Hamilton. Only Angelica is still in love with Hamilton, but gave him up for many reasons. And the scene zooms back to when she met him at a Winter’s Ball, and they talked about never been satisfied. I know this song is about a romantic situation, but it can be applied to other situations in life too.

Satisfaction. Is anyone ever 100% satisfied? This song was in my mind, because I think I have a tendency not to be satisfied. For a long time, I looked for the little negative things in my life. I didn’t look at the bigger picture. I walked around with a smile on my face, but behind the smile lay a world unraveling. I felt wholly and sadly unsatisfied. I wanted what I didn’t have, and I didn’t want what I had. Finding writing again helped me curb the unsettled unsatisfactory feeling within myself.

In the song, Hamilton tells her she seems like a woman who has never been satisfied. And then he compares her to himself and says that he has never been and will never be satisfied either.

Hamilton was wildly successful, you know, besides being shot and killed by Burr. He wrote the majority of the Federalist Papers, shaped the US founding government, was the first State Treasurer, and started the banking industry (because of him I have a job). But he never felt satisfied (or the creative license would have you think that). And here’s a thought: the lack of satisfaction is a driving force in success. Why do people rise up from the poor? Because they’re not satisfied with what they have? Why do people change jobs? Because they’re not satisfied. Why do people become politicians? Because they’re not satisfied. Why do people write? Because they’re not satisfied.

Think about it this way. If a writer wrote a book and was completely satisfied with it, would they ever write another one? Part of what keeps people driven is the lack of satisfaction, either with their current situation or with the world around them. Not feeling satisfied is an unsettling feeling, but is also a key to success.

Why drives you? Are you satisfied?

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Countdown

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Five days until the half-marathon. It’s crazy, because forever I felt like it was far away. And here it is. And I don’t feel ready. I mean, I can run 12 miles. Or at least walk/run and feel like I’m dying with my breathing or possibly my legs might fall off. The thing I’m most worried about is the heat and humidity. It’s supposed to be 90 degrees in Nashville on Saturday. The thing I’m looking forward to most is seeing my sisters. I love how this journey has brought us closer this year. We are all striving to do the same thing, and the common goal has brought us together. That’s pretty awesome if you think about it.

I haven’t been writing, and last week I didn’t even blog. I have been soul searching a little bit. (Of course, because don’t I always?) This week, my eleven year old told me that maybe he didn’t want to do gymnastics next year. And when I asked him why he said, “Because it’s gotten hard and it’s not as fun as it used to be.” In all my wisdom I said, “Well, if you want to quit you can. It’s your choice. But you have to make sure you’re quitting for the right reason. Are you quitting because it’s hard and you don’t like hard work? Or are you quitting because you’re ready to try something else?”

And then I went for a run with Sean on Saturday morning, and the first 2 miles were fucking amazing. Fast. And then I said I wanted to walk. And we walked/ran the last 2 miles. On the way home in the car I complained about running the half again. “Why the hell am I even doing this? It’s so stupid.” And Sean said, “You may have a bit of Caden in you. You want to quit when it gets hard.”

And he was right: I do. I’ve always had a huge amount of motivation, and I get to a certain point and then I just don’t feel like doing it anymore. So this weekend I was thinking of that in terms of my writing instead of my running. I’ve been in a funk. I started a difficult novel. And I’m 30,000 words in, and I’m stuck. But the thing is–I know what’s going to happen and how to finish it but writing it is hard. It’s hard for a million reasons, because of emotions, and the voice, and all the shit that will make it good in the end. And I also think that’s why I’ve had a hard time editing Little Birdhouses. I’ve always been the type of person who sets a goal, finishes something, then moves on to the next big thing. But I don’t want to be like that with my writing. I want to make it a lifetime of work. I want to work through the discomfort. I want to get to the end and really have produced something amazing that readers can relate to. I want to query, live through the rejection, and, eventually, become a famous writer. I have this incredible talent and this amazing dream, but I can tell you I’m never going to get there if my attitude is the same as it’s been the last few months. No one ever gets anywhere by not working hard and giving up before they’ve reached the finish line.

It’s funny, because after my talk with my running buddy on Saturday I went running with my girlfriends on Sunday morning and I had all this incredible energy. I think I could have finished the half marathon easily that day. My attitude had changed, and I felt like I’d just push through. Now if only I could apply that to my writing.

Innately, I know that success comes from hard work, and part of the feeling of accomplishment is working hard to get there. But in reality, putting that into practice is difficult for me. And yes, I know I have lots of valid excuses: three kids, husband, day job, and PTA, but in the end I need those factors to motivate me instead of serving as a roadblock to my success.

Suggestions are welcome. Do you feel like you hold yourself back from achieving your dreams?

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It’s Payback, Really

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My kids fight. Liam and Hailey seem born of hatred for one another. Sometimes, they will play together so nicely. I look back fondly on the good ole days when Liam called Hailey, “Harry,” and thought she was the cutest thing ever. But we are past all that. I think it comes because they are two years apart and insanely jealous of each other. Liam is praised because he is calm, makes straight As, and is so laidback (except when he’s being left out—then he’s just mean). And Hailey is praised because she’s cute, sweet, and the only girl. They both vie for my attention and their father’s, and they hate when one gets it over the other. I know a lot of sibling rivalry stems from sensing things are unfair. I know this from experience.

This weekend, before I left to attend one of my book clubs, they were playing in my room so nicely. They both have great imaginations. They could play for hours together until the bickering begins. By the time I made it home for our afternoon grill out, the niceties had fallen by the wayside and they were picking on each other.

Liam: “Hailey you’re doing that wrong.”

Hailey: “LIAM! STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO!” on the top of her lungs. She has no other voice setting.

And then hands around neck, or light sabers to the stomach, until someone screams or is not-so-seriously injured. I think part of the problem is I tend to get involved. At some point, I should just let them duke it out and see who comes out the winner. Fight Club, anyone?

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Aren’t kids precious? Hailey has that eyeroll down pat–should I be worried?

But, I guess it’s fair. My sister and I had a horrible time getting along when we were growing up. I take a lot of that blame. I was mean. I remember once, my older sister, my brother and I started a sticker club and wouldn’t let Allison join. My dad banned us from trading stickers. Oh the horrors! But Alli and I duked it out the same way Liam and Hailey did. And for a long time I had an intense jealousy of her. She was so motivated. She always made good grades (yes, that happens when one studies), and she seemed to be the apple of Mom and Dad’s eyes. I felt like an afterthought. And even more so, I felt like my parents tended to side with her in our arguments and blame me, even into adulthood. Now, I see they were trying to protect her because she was the middle child, and because we did treat her horribly. All the adversity turned her into an amazing wonderful person, and I’m proud to say she’s my sister. I love her to death, and I feel closer to her now than I ever have. I hope my middling Liam can say the same about his little sister when he’s grown up.

In the meantime, I’ll just keep screaming, “Stop fighting, you two!”

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Now…or Later

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I met a woman over the weekend at a book club who had the gift for gab. She told me she had written a children’s book and four memoirs. She has this exuberant personality, go-getter attitude, and incredible energy. We went to lunch yesterday. This woman is in her 80s, and she wanted me to put some information together for her so she could try to have her non-fiction children’s book published. Talk about living your dreams at any age.

I’ve had a hard time lately, thinking I’m running out of time to become a serious writer. And I think this woman was sent to me to remind me that as long as I’m motivated I can achieve my dreams. She has done so much with her life, because she went for it when the time came. And she said something to me yesterday that made so much sense too. We were talking about my fear to speak in big groups, and she said, “Let the butterflies in your stomach drive you, because they’re energy. Don’t let them turn into anxiety that holds you back.” I think this can be applied to other situations. Often in writing, us authors get caught up in the thought of someone reading and critiquing our work. We get caught up in thinking about rejection after rejection from agents.We let these anxieties hold us back. We need to use our creative energy to propel us through that and not let the anxiety rein us in.

What drives you forward? What are some ways you can achieve your dreams?

And as a completely unrelated aside. Here’s a tribute to my dog Beasley who is being euthanized today. 14 1/2 years old. He was a wonderful Beagle pup we retrieved in the country of Maryland from a breeder who said he was defective because of an overbite. He lived with us for 5 years, and then resided with my parents when Rob and I moved to Montgomery and had to live in an apartment. He was always happy, smiling, and there never was a tail that wagged more. My mom fixed him some pizza in the Cuisinart last night, and he went to town. He has cancer, is blind, and deaf, and has started walking into walls, and acting like he doesn’t know where he is. So we know it’s time. Here’s to a sweet old dog as he travels across the rainbow bridge.

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Beasley – younger days

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Weekend Wonder

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I had one of those amazing weekends. Of course the weather helped. In the 70s. No humidity. Sun shining in a blue sky. No clouds. Plus, I finished my part of the yearbook, and it seemed like a huge weight off my shoulders.

I went into the weekend feeling a bit over-scheduled, but it ended up working perfectly. I had two book clubs to attend and discuss my books. The first book club met and discussed No Turning Back. I felt a little worried, because I hadn’t done a book club on this book. I self-published No Turning Back six months before The Devil Within, and it is not professionally edited. Part of me wanted to pull it off Amazon, but I do like the story. As a novice writer, many mistakes are made and not having the story edited was mine. I can, at some point, remove the story, have it edited and put it back out there, but at this point I’ve moved on and have bigger fish to fry (cliché).

The book club went off without a hitch though. It was at my neighbor’s house, and as usual I met some interesting people. I also met some women who are writers themselves. I always love meeting writers who are looking to start out in the business. It’s so motivational and inspirational to see others on the same journey as I am. Plus, at this point I have some knowledge I can impart to them because when you’re first starting out the process of getting published seems big and overwhelming

After the Saturday book club, we had a grilling extravaganza at our house. Rob made one of our friend’s famous rib recipes, and they tasted great. All the kids had fun playing outside in the sunshine, and of course we had a good time eating and drinking too much. I fell into bed feeling happy, content and loved. Isn’t that the best feeling?

On Sunday, I had a goal to run 9 miles. I’m still training for the half marathon, but my training derailed with my stress fracture. I’d gone to Montgomery Multisport and met with Malcolm about my shoes the weekend before, because I really think my Saucony Ride 7s were not the shoes for me. They aggravated my stress fracture. I bought new shoes, and Malcolm showed me how to do a runner’s loop. Let me tell you: my feet have never felt so good on a run. They weren’t sliding around or coming up in the back. Apparently I have skinny ankles. The run went well. I had to walk some of it, but my goal was to stay below a 12 minute mile, and I did  (just barely). I listened to Hamilton the Musical, recommended by my sister, and let me just say if you haven’t listened to this you should. What an amazing and tragic life Alexander Hamilton lived.

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Sunday continued to be gorgeous, and I spent some time up at our neighborhood playground with the kids and some new neighborhood friends. Then I had yet another book club meeting on The Devil Within. That book club went well too. I continue to be amazed at the generosity and the interest I receive in book clubs. It’s amazing to meet people who have lived such amazing lives. And I feel like all of these people could contribute to a story about the human existence. We had a great discussion about abuse,  the rigidity of religion in the South, and about the psychology of human beings. I always learn when I attend book clubs, and this time was no different. I think that’s what I enjoy most about them how books can bring people together, and give them a commonality. As a writer, there is nothing better than feeling like your reader can relate to you.

All in all the weekend felt so productive. And I was able to see people I loved and meet people I will grow to love. Who could ask for more?

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Carry On

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When I wake up in the morning, I grab a cup of coffee, sit down, turn on Pandora, and I blog, write, or work on yearbook (almost done!). This morning, Pandora played the same song for me two times in a row. Carry On by Fun.. It reminded me how you can put CDs on repeat and play them over and over again, reveling in the words that seem so relevant in your life but are sung by a total stranger. How many of you have done that when you’re having a bad day (or a bad breakup)?

Carry On is such a great song. A few years ago, I listened to this song in my darkest days, and it helped me to do just that: carry on. Walk away from the past with open arms toward the future. The future is full of infinite possibilities, and if we didn’t carry on then we’d never have those experiences.

I sat down unsure of what I wanted to blog about this morning. I have been writing, working on a story that took me away from my two previous works in progress. Now that yearbook is almost complete, I’m going to put more effort into blogging more and also into finishing up edits on Little Birdhouses, writing more, and I’m going to start querying again. (Get ready for lots of blog posts about rejection) When I wrote last week, for the first time in awhile, I felt relief wash over me. And it reminded me of the reason I write. I write because I have to. I write because it takes all of my restless energy and turns it into something amazing and beautiful. And because maybe, like I did with Fun.’s song, someone will relate to something I’ve written. The gift of words.

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Disney World Vacation

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I’ve been missing the last week, because my family went to Disney World!

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What a magical place. Honestly, before I left to go to Disney I dreaded it. I dreaded the crowds, waiting in line for rides, and screaming children. But, while there something wonderful happened. I enjoyed myself. I felt like a kid again. I saw the magic light up in my kids’ eyes as they imagined they were a princess and Jedis.

At the Disney princess breakfast in the Cinderella castle, Snow White told the girls to make a wish on their star. She told them to close their eyes tight and wish as hard as they could, and Hailey pressed her fingers against her eyes and squeezed them and murmured, “I want long hair.” I feel her pain.

Caden loved the rollercoasters, all of them, and Liam came alive most in Hollywood Studios on the Star Wars ride and during Star Wars training.

So here are a few things I learned out Disney, which might benefit you if you’re thinking about taking a trip anytime soon.

  1. Meal Plan is TOTALLY worth it! Food at Disney is expensive, and when you have a meal plan you’re provided one snack, one table service, and one quick service every day (they have different levels of the plan–this was ours). We ate a lot on this meal. If you don’t have the meal plan, you’re going to put down a lot of money just to eat for the week.
  2. If you are staying in a resort in the park, the cup you receive can only be refilled at resorts. It can’t be refilled in the park, unless you fill it up in the water fountain. We didn’t know this beforehand.
  3. We walked about 11 miles a day. Bring a good pair of tennis shoes, and a stroller if you have young kiddos. Make sure to park in stroller parking, because if you don’t your stroller will be moved.
  4. For us,the park hopper was totally worth it. We spent time in all parks, and we hopped most days. We liked the food best in Epcot, and ended up there a lot of nights to eat.
  5. If you’re going during a busy time and staying at a resort on property, make use of the Extra Magic Hours. We rode a lot of high profile rides during the Magic Hours.
  6. Plan your fast passes as soon as you can after you book. We were able to get on a lot of rides that people were waiting 180 minutes for, because we had planned our fast passes early.
  7. Carry your poncho and/or umbrella. Afternoon rainstorms happen often.
  8. If you have girls who like princesses, plan to drop extra money. The Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique is fun but EXPENSIVE.
  9. If you do the Jedi Training, arrive at Hollywood Studios early in the morning, and look for the guy holding the Jedi Training sign. You can go in the park early to sign up. This is one of the only ways you can get a slot to the Jedi Training.
  10. Have fun. Feel the magic!

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Live Life to the Fullest

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My car has been covered in pollen for the last week. I’m happy my doctor put me on Singular last week, because I haven’t had one headache. I’m feeling a little down today, because over the last few weeks several people I’ve known have died. People who died who shouldn’t have. Or people who died suddenly.

I love the spring time, because it’s a time of rebirth. And when I’m feeling the impermanence of life it makes me feel better when I see trees sprouting green leaves, flowers blooming, and even the pollen on my car. Spring, to me, always seems like the world is opening up to possibilities, giving birth to a new cycle of life.

Every day we have a choice in how we live our life. We can live our life in the past, hemming and hawing over things we cannot change. Or we can have anxiety about the future. But living in the present, being fully there for every moment is what we should strive for, even though it can be so hard to do. When we live in the present, we feel the most alive. When we find awe in everyday occurrences, look for the best in others our lives take on an intangible quality of happiness, pureness, excitement, but mostly contentedness.

The other day, I brought a magazine of bathing suits home to show my daughter. She’s five. She has enormous blue eyes and a smile that can light up any room. I fret over how she’s growing older, because I loved the baby days. I know she will grow up and become an intelligent, beautiful young woman, and she will no longer climb into my bed in the middle of the night, no longer cling to my neck with her dirty five-year-old hands, or look for my lap first thing in the morning. I try to be there for her, but as everyone know parenting is not easy in the busy world we live in.

But this particular day, I opened the magazine, and her eyes glinted with excitement. She pointed and said, with genuine excitement, “Oh my gosh. I love that bathing suit. It’s beautiful!” Her voice wavered at the excitement. And I thought, wow, she has such a lust and love for life. She’s only had five years of experience, and she makes the most of every moment because things to her are so vivid and new in her limited scope of experience. And that’s the kind of awe I’m talking about. A zest for life. The expression on her face that says she’s truly living in the moment, truly eating up what she’s experiencing. Wouldn’t it be great if most adults could do this too, instead of just going through the motions?

Children have a way of seeing the world that adults don’t. They see a sunrise and exclaim, “It’s so beautiful.” “That’s amazing.” They are in awe of the world. Awe-inspiring events happen every day. Don’t lose your awe. Look at the sunrise, think and reflect on the beauty, and live in the present for a happy, fulfilling life.

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Let’s Have a Ball

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Meet season is finally over. We sprung forward this weekend, and on Sunday we enjoyed a 70 degree day with the sun staying up until almost 7. We played a game of baseball in the front yard, in which my 11 year old decided it would be fun to peg us with the ball as we ran to the (very far away) first base. This resulted in a lot of screaming and crying from the 7 and 5 year old, a few meltdowns, stern talks, and even a threat of no-dessert. Aww—the joys of parenting.

In case you noticed, I’ve been trying to make a concerted effort of blogging and scheduling my blogs. I generally try to write on Mondays, but I was a little late this week. Monday is my top day, because I post it to a discussion on a writers’ group I belong to. I enjoy reading others blogs, especially budding authors and people who I wouldn’t know or even have heard of without the group.

I’m trying to be more deliberate in my life. As you know, because I’ve blogged about it before, I have a problem with procrastination. I tend to be of the camp that if it’s due tomorrow start it at midnight the day before. I sometimes feel overwhelmed because of this, and I’m trying to stop this behavior or at least adjust it a little bit. It’s hard, and I’m not sure I’ll ever achieve this goal in my life. I’m stuck in my ways and have been stubborn for far too long.

This weekend, my son had to attend a Spring Ball. He was not happy about it. In fact, I was ruining his life. But I spoke to him, again, in the fashion of life lessons, of having to do things you don’t want to do. For a parent this is an everyday lesson, but it also led me to reflect on my own life.

You see, Caden, gets a lot of his tenacity from me. I’ve always been a mule when it comes to doing something I don’t want to do: school work, cleaning, cooking. I have a knack for passing these things on to other people. I simply refuse to do these tasks if I don’t feel like doing them. To.this.day! But I often feel guilt associated with that refusal to do tasks that are expected to me (I wouldn’t be a true Southerner without the guilt, right?) And I’m sure Caden has learned his behavior from me. On the way to the Junior Cotillion Spring Ball yesterday, he said, “Why don’t I have a choice? Why are you making me do something against my will?” Oh, lovely tween years. I can’t wait for the full blown TEEN years. But in that moment, when he asked that, I felt bad. I felt bad I signed him up and didn’t ask him. I felt bad, because he’s asserting his independence. I felt bad, because I remembered how I felt when I was forced to do things I did not want to as a child. Powerless. And no one likes to feel powerless.

Dance 1

But it was just one day. Just one dance. And I knew he’d survive. I knew, from the experience of the last dance, that he’d even enjoy it. It’s a good lesson to learn. Sometimes, quite a lot of times actually, as adults we are forced to do things we’d rather not do. And somehow we learn to stop complaining and just get it done, and sometimes we find some fun in it. Even my son learned how to do that at the Ball I made him go to. Smile just a little bit. Have a good time, and realize the sun will still be up when you get home and they’ll be plenty of time to play outside, at least for this brief moment of his life where he still wants to.

Dance 2

Life Lessons

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In the South, we are having an early spring. I hear this is extending up to the north too as my sister is wildly excited about 75 degrees temps up there. On Tuesday, Hailey wanted to go to the playground after I picked her up from her after-school program. I dutifully drove the white minivan to the playground at the top of our neighborhood, called hubby and told him to send Caden on down on his bike, and sat on a bench while Hailey played.

That day, not many other people were out. When Caden came down riding my yellow Gary Fisher bike he wasn’t wearing his helmet. He pulled out his cell phone and facetimed with a friend for the entire time we were at the playground. Then as the sun sunk down, I decided we needed to leave. Hailey told me she would beat me home, and she clenched up her fist and ran as hard as she could down the street toward our house. I told Caden it was time to leave. Barely a nod in my direction. I hopped in the car and trailed my daughter home, until she came up to the window and asked me to stop, climbed into the car breathless and said, “Boy, I’m tired.” I love the spring.

Home for ten minutes, and Hubs almost had dinner ready. Liam who had been sick earlier in the night, crept down the stairs, but Caden still hadn’t returned. I’m not a dummy. I know the kid’s phone is basically superglued to his hand, so I called him. He answered on the second ring.

“Come on home.”

“Okay.”

He showed up a few minutes later, still talking to his friend.

“Do you homework,” Hubs said.

And commence major meltdown.

I get it. No one wants to do homework on a glorious day when they could be facetiming their friend while sitting on a swing and pretending to play for hours. No one wants to do a lot of things. I don’t ever want to wear high heels, because they scrunch up my toes in a teeny tiny pocket at the top of the shoe, and they’re so darned uncomfortable. But I wear them, because they look nice with my black dress. I don’t want to clean the toilets, especially after three boys in my family have decided that the toilet bowl is just a suggestion.

There’s so many things in this world that we just don’t want to do, but we do because we have to. Caden calmed down, we ate dinner, and he begrudgingly did his homework, then he facetimed his friend to tell him goodnight. (Don’t worry, they weren’t without each other very long. At 6:30 AM the next morning they were talking again. Tweens. )

After all that I said to Caden, “I get it. But you have responsibilities that you have to accomplish. Homework and school is your responsibility. You must do these things, and then you can talk to your friends. We’ll give you a little leeway if you do what you’re supposed to do first.”

He seemed to understand. And isn’t that the way with life? Even at work, if you get your work done then you can be social. If you write the book and do the hard work, then you can play.

I didn’t tell Caden that I’d had his exact meltdown at the white kitchen table parked in the house I grew up in. I didn’t tell him that I’d screamed at my dad and said, “Algebra is so stupid. When the heck am I ever going to use this?” We’ve all been there. We’ve all known what it’s like to be trapped inside a house forced to do work on a glorious day when the sunshine seems to be calling our name.