The Olympics

I suppose it was just as well I was out of the room when they exintinguished the torch on the taped version of the closing ceremonies last night. My hope is that in two years, in time for the next games (summer), things will be different in a better way.

My sister Karen, Greg, and I all lamented how we weren’t excited for the Olympics a few weeks ago. I can’t speak for Greg, but for Karen and I, the games were a big deal in our family. I can recall all of us gathered in front of the tv to watch bobsled and figure skating in 1980 at Lake Placid and then track in the summer of 1984 in Los Angeles.

For the past year or so, I’ve been spending more time tracing back in my life where my dreams were born and what inspires me. In a major way, it has been the Olympics. It’s where my unfulfilled running dreams were born, but those dreams taught me about goal setting, dreaming big, working hard, and the idea that we can achieve something we set out to do (although my case it was a long list of things outside of running competitively, but I don’t believe I would have accomplished any of it without dreaming about winning that goal medal in track).

Denise and I watched a lot of Olympics together and in the late 1980s when Mom worked for Midway Airlines, she took us to Colorado Springs to see the United States Olympic Training Center, a place I would spend the summer working as an intern at USA Boxing the summer of 1993, just months after Denise’ suicide.

That summer put me in the thick of our athletes, especially in the cafeteria where we all ate (Bonnie Blair sat behind me one day). I worked the 1996 Atlanta summer games and in 2002, I carried the torch here in Albuquerque as the flame made its way to Salt Lake City.

The Olympic games are a part of the fabric that I continue to weave and call my life. I am saddened by a whole slew of things that have happened, of knowing how many people aren’t excited by them (we found ourselves getting more into them as the eighteen days wore on), and I hope that the changes that need to be made can be made to make them stronger and change them as our society has changed much in recently years. We are in a reckoning with so much and the Olympics are no exception.

Probably what saddened me the most though, was the comment in an article about how much NBC paid for the games, saying how they one had been something that brought us together. That wasn’t the case at all this year, like so many other things.

Still, I hope that in 2024, the rings that have been separated will be glued together stronger than ever. After all, how many other dreams were born through the Olympics besides mine? I hate to imagine life without something that has made such a difference for so many of us.

Big goals, little goals, keeping them all in check

I don't talk about it much on social media but I spend part of each of my work days writing. That might be actually writing, revising, reading, researching, or some other aspect that goes into creating a novel. It all ebbs and flows based on what I need to do.

I have given myself this year (2018) to focus on not just Chelle Summer but also the writing part of me. However, writing isn't really something that transforms well into social media photos so most of what you see if related to the visual creative side to me, Chelle Summer.

Last week was a challenging week and I had a really hard time getting much accomplished. Now Greg will tell you that I do more before 7:00 am than most people do in a day but, to me, there is always more I want to do. Part of that stems from the losses in my life and the sense that none of us are promised anything, that life can change in many ways in an instant and we better make the most of the day ahead of us.

While last week I was able to keep up with things, meaning keeping the desk clean, email caught up on, and the house vacuumed, there wasn't much happening on the creative side. By the end of the week I was feeling a little depressed. Until I tried a new recipe for Rice Krispie treats on Thursday.

And when I did that, I was reminded that when you are working on big goals, the kind that might not manifest for a least months if not years, it's important to balance that with smaller goals, giving you a sense of accomplishment in the meantime.

So as I continue to mold manuscripts (yes, there is more than one) like a piece of clay, I sometimes need to remind myself that I also need to do smaller creative endeavors that move quickly and let me stand back and have that sense of accomplishment while I'm working on something bigger.

On Sunday I purposely chose two items that I knew I could finish in a day (a painting I had started and two pillows I was making) so that I could walk into a new week feeling that I was already on my way to a much more productive time.

It worked.

When the Journey Isn't Clear

I have to laugh. I couldn't think of a topic for this week because my life is very quiet right now. I realize that isn't a bad thing but I'm a person who is used to many irons in the fire and running from place to place. I know this time is a gift to write and create– which is what I'm doing– but it seems like many times I have written over the years about what it's like to not feel as if the journey is completely clear.

I have been at many points in my life where I felt complete clarity of the journey but doing things like working on a degree or writing a book with someone else gives you smaller goals along the way because you're not on that journey alone.

This time is different though. After I finish this blog, I will go and write a few pages on a manuscript I've started and then I have a slew of aprons to finish that I had cut out some time ago. While a few of them are custom orders, most of them don't have "homes" yet (translation– they haven't been sold) and I don't know if any will when I post them later in the week. 

So it's a strange place to be– I am working hard, I am making things happen...but yet I don't know what the end result will be. However, I do believe I am on the right road, even if that road doesn't always feel so defined or that I'm following someone else's directions (like in the photo attached). 

Life usually isn't spelled out for us, especially when we choose undefined roads. And even though we aren't always sure how we'll get there, we know the journey will be worth it when we arrive.

The Push and Pull of Letting Go

Letting go is one of my biggest challenges (along with being patient!). It's not just that I want things to happen, it's also that I'm willing to work to make them happen. And yet much of the time it's not on my schedule. I'm a doer, I'm not a person to step back and let things unfold in front of me. I try to do as much as I can to make the unfolding happen.

But reality (yep, there's that again) is that there is much that can't happen if I don't let it go. If I keep something at the forefront of my mind, if I continually thing about it, what I'm doing is holding it back because I can't let it go.

I don't want to let it go because that means– gasp!– I'm giving the control away. However, I can't count the number of times that I've forced myself to stop thinking about something, stop asking for it. And the minute I turn around, my mind and work elsewhere, it reappears.

When something we want- especially to accomplish- feels as if it's stagnant, somewhere we need to balance how much we work on it and the letting go of the rest. There is only so much I can do, and accepting that is hard for me because I want certain things (particularly in my professional life) to happen. But life is also about balance, especially balancing working hard and letting go of the rest. 

And the day I master that? I won't be the only one watching it unfold. Until then, back to balancing I go.

Staying the Course

Sometimes I forget to follow my own advice.

Recently, a friend's daughter had gone out for her high school cross country team. She ran track in middle school but only the short sprints. After her first race, when she finished almost completely last last in the field, when we were back at our house after the meet to eat pizza, I pulled out the clippings from my high school days. The very ones where I finished dead last on my team and near the end of the line in the junior varsity race. By the end of that season though, I had moved up to last spot on varsity and I wanted Hannah to know that working hard would pay off. I also wanted her to know that everything I have accomplished today is because of those lessons I learned back then.

As I work at Chelle Summer, trying to get the word out there to sell the hand bags I have made as well as make more and get ready to sell customer swimwear in the spring, along with all my other responsibilities (including a full-time research job), sometimes I can be sitting at the sewing machine and I'll begin to wonder, is it worth it?

I wrote several weeks ago when we launched the store of the web site that to me this is the harder part of starting up something new: actually getting people to buy what you've created. Anyone of us can create something and throw it out there. The hard part is making people see that you're different than the millions of other products that we're bombarded with (and see all over social media). 

It's also a challenge to keep going when you're alone and have time to think. It's easy to wonder if it's worth the time and effort, if it's what I'm supposed to do, and if there is something else I'm supposed to be doing.

But then something comes along and reminds me, yes, this is the right direction on the map. I don't always get there as quickly as I would like. But, yes, I'll get there somehow. I've done it before and I know the rewards are great. I just need to stay the course.