Building Blocks

Autobiographies have always been my thing. At the core of what motivates me, you’ll find it’s figuring out what inspires others. This was part of the basis behind writing my newest book, Route 66 Dreams– in searching through the depths of figuring out who I am, I wondered how I arrived at the place I’m at. More specifically, what has motivated me to get here and what motivates me to keep going?

Last week, I mentioned that between my arriving at a new decade and effects of the pandemic, I’m finding some of those motivations and inspirations have changed. I still feel like I’m standing in a hallway of doors that have closed and waiting on some to still open (a few have opened, a few have cracked open leaving me hopeful, but not always sure what’s coming). I know that it’s up to me to open to new inspirations and motivations, yet I am still aware that it can take time to see them or become aware of them.

There is something else, however, that I’ve always understood from my own life experiences and reading those of others– we often look at someone and say, “Wow, look at all they accomplished!” But we also often don’t look close enough to see the places in their lives where– and I don’t want to use the word “failed” but instead say “things didn’t work out as planned.” While we are motivated when good things happen (it’s almost a relief for me to feel the movement under my feet, like standing on a surfboard and finally hitting the wave just right to ride it to shore). Yet sometimes the bigger motivation for us is when things don’t work out, when bad things happen, when life changes course in a way that we didn’t want or embrace. Yet it’s the way that led us to something bigger, to seeing we were capable of much more than maybe we even dreamed.

We must take time the time– and energy!– to be reflective. Yes, there is pain in reaching back to some things, maybe some things we thought we had pushed the door closed on, and yet maybe there’s still something to learn from them before we push them closed for good.

I was out running one morning last week when it occurred to me that things had changed, that I was going to have to forge a new way forward. And yet in that searching, I realized that there is a little side road through my past I need to take. I’m not really sure why, but I do know it’s one that keeps lingering, like where old Route 66 runs alongside the interstate. I’m hopeful that taking this journey another time will be a huge step forward.

Harnessing Fear

It has taken me a long time to make friends with fear. And I admit there are some days that I really struggle with it.

I don’t know what has created the fears I have of a variety of things. I do know that somewhere I along my life path I had to learn to embrace it because it wasn’t going anywhere. Probably what helped me the most was running competitively because it was there that I had to learn to push myself. This didn’t always go so well, however, I can say that I learned so many of the skills that I parlayed into everything else I have accomplished.

After all, we need to skills that we build– much like building blocks– to get better, to learn, to move forward. We have to start somewhere and then we keep adding, the blocks getting higher, not making a hard wall to climb but making a wall of skills we can use.

The caveat in all this is that it’s so easy to let fear get the best of us. Believe me, I know this well. And it’s the disappointment– repeated many times– that finally taught me I didn’t want to feel that way again. But that also meant I had to teach myself how to overcome it.

Self talk, taking little steps, setting small goals, were all part of embracing fear. And reminding myself that if we break it down, fear is simply not knowing what’s going to happen.

While for multiple reasons I can’t surf at this point in my life (although I am hopeful I will be able to again), surfing taught me a lot about forging past fear. The first time I got on a surfboard was one of the most intimidating things had done. After all, me of all people surfing? But I did it. I was never very good at it but I kept trying, kept reminding myself to be respectful of Mother Nature or she’ll teach you a lesson (she taught me a significant one once when I allowed the wave to get between my surfboard and me and the board walloped me in the face).

Even though I can’t surf now, I use what surfing taught me to do other things in my life as I build Chelle Summer, as I write more books and market them, wanting people to read them and enjoy them. We all have fear, but the key is, how can we use it to help us go forward?

Easter Renewal

As mass started yesterday morning– Easter Sunday– I didn’t feel my usual excitement about Easter. Even last year when it felt like everyone was wearing black (we all know I wasn’t!), I had that sense of renewal inside me and I wasn’t going to be swayed by the lack of hope of so many people. It wasn’t that I felt bad yesterday, I just didn’t feel the excitement I usually do on Easter morning, the times when the joyful music stays in my head long after I’ve left mass.

I admit this was my fault. I had been so caught up in finishing my book Route 66 Dreams when Ash Wednesday rolled around that my Lenten plans never got off the ground. I was ready to move onto a new book, to use that time to focus on a story that is partially finished, but I had to remain with the prior story and then I was too exhausted for several weeks to get my head wrapped around the “new” story.

However, as we traveled through the Easter mass yesterday, it was Fr. Steve’s homily that resonated with me. In particular, when he said–

“People are suffering and there seems to be nothing we can do about it. But God is mysteriously at work. We might not be able to make sense of it all, but God is doing something more wonderful than we can imagine. In due time, it will all be revealed. So, we live with hope, and we do what we can to alleviate the distress around us.”

That was what I needed. I don’t know that I realized it, but after he spoke it, I felt as if a weight, the weight of worry I’ve had for so many things– in my world and beyond– dissipate.

We all need Easter Sunday. While it might mean different things in different faiths, we all need to take a step back, to be reminded to let go, to have faith, to continue to pray and, mostly, hope.

Easter should be a day to refresh oneself for the journey. It was the end of the Lenten journey– however that looked for each of us– and start of a new journey. It’s as if we took a day to stop, to rest, to feel the warm sun on our faces or warmth of people around us, to smell the flowers, enjoy the colored eggs, eat a tasty piece of cake.

Now we have the strength to go forward and continue to believe.

Breaking the Loop

The loop. We all have at least one– maybe more than one, maybe more than we want to count. The loops that repeat in our heads over and over about how we feel about ourselves, about something we regret we did or said, how we think others see us. They can be endless while sending us into a downward spiral that paralyzes us.

Yes, those loops.

Those are the kind of loops that are meant to be broken. They don’t do us any good so why do we hang onto them other than we’re just so accustomed to them that they are a habit, the kind of habit that needs to be broken.

It takes a little work– I won’t deny it, I’ve spent years cutting my loops and throwing them in the Wednesday trash pick up. But once you learn how to break the loops, you become more aware of them and can stop them before they paralyze you.

The key is finding a way that works for you to stop them so you can break them. In fact, the universe might be trying to break them for you and you just don’t realize it (that phone call or text message that comes through while you’re looping? It’s probably there to help get you out of your head).

For me, I’ve learned to distract myself from the loop. The loop is negative and I know it, but I also know how hard it is to stop myself from the negative fearful thinking that ruled so much of my life. If I’m looping. I force myself to think of something happy and that means switching my mind to thinking about whatever writing project I’m working on or something that I’m sewing. Maybe even a drawing/painting that I’m not quite sure how to get onto paper.

This happened recently– I caught myself in the loop and then moved my thinking to what I was going to write the next day in the latest novel I’m writing. What would happen next in the story? What pieces was I missing? Where was I stuck that I need help to change or make happen?

I found that I instantly felt better and the loop had been thrown in the trash. Sure, the loops keeps trying to come back, pesky things that they are, but I keep breaking them. And the best part? It’s actually forcing me to spend more of my mind and time being creative. I've come to realize how much time I’ve wasted thinking about things that don’t deserve the loop.

The Discomfort on the Road to Success

As I made my breakfast smoothie this morning, I was streaming the Olympic coverage on Peacock (it was the end of the evening track and field session in Tokyo). David Feherty from The Golf Channel was talking about why he was never more successful playing golf. He explained that he understood that all successful people, in any field, are successful because they want to be uncomfortable. And he didn’t want to do that.

I believe this a concept that most people don’t understand– to be successful, you have to continually step out of your box and into uncharted territory. To lead a well-lived life, you need to do the same. You can’t sit back in your arm chair and watch life play out in front of you, it needs to be about your actions.

As a freshman in high school, I remember our cross country coach told us something similar. “To be a good distance runner, you will never be comfortable.” (The other bit of advice I remember from him was that we should never, ever get our shoes wet when we were running– I’m not sure which is harder– stepping out of a box or not stepping in puddles of rain when you don’t know how deep they are.)

Some years ago, I was in constant motion training people on the warning signs of suicide/how to ask people if they are suicidal. I had multiple contracts with various state and federal organizations, was working on a doctorate, and had a variety of other things happening. Each week, I was doing a presentation and I used to remark that I was constantly stepping out of my box, being forced out of my comfort zone.

It wasn’t easy but I could see, even then, how it was helping me to grow. The more I spoke, the better I got at it. And the more experiences I had that I could write about and reflect back on.

It’s okay to rest sometimes. We have to do that. Yet we also should remember that being comfortable for too long means we aren’t growing. That’s when we need to find something to challenge ourselves, something new, something that maybe we didn’t believe we could do before. That uncomfortable state means we’re heading in the right direction– we’re growing into who we all have the opportunity to be.

Forward, forward, forward

Don’t look back, I was often told when I was running competitively.

It was so easy to do– to look back and see how far (or near!) the next runner was behind me. Would I need to work harder to keep her at bay? Did I have the mental energy to keep up the pace, or even pick up the pace, so she didn’t pass me?

But looking back, even for a brief moment, took up not just physical energy, but time. It was that effort of the head movement that also lead to a partial body movement that slowed the running down and let that person get closer to me.

So they said not to look back.

Isn’t that true about life though, too?

Don’t look back or it will slow you down. Keep your eyes on the prize. Keep your eyes on your goals, your dreams, whatever it is that keeps you moving forward.

I was thinking about this as I was out running the other morning, finding myself looking back for no reason. I don’t know why I thought anyone was behind me (although when I run Ash, he looks back all the time, especially when we turn onto certain roads, for reasons I don’t understand). But as I did it, I thought about the effort it took to look back and the bit of time it cost me. For what?

I have always thought of the line from the Manfred Mann song, “Don’t look back/You’ve been there.”

After a year of what felt like standing in place, I’ve been trying to move forward so why would I look back? I do believe in occasional reflection of the past, after all, it’s that which reminds us of how far we have come. It might be that sometimes we need to stop for a moment, collect our thoughts, and take a quick look back to see where we have been to see how far we’ve come, but we don’t and shouldn’t do that all time.

Remember, will keep us from getting where we want to be.

Movement

I have a whacky workout schedule and I often hesitate to tell people how much I do daily because I understand how whacky it looks from the outside. But there’s more to it than the need to add steps and workouts to my Garmin watch.

There are three segments to the running part of my workout – I run Lilly, then I run Ash, and then I go for my run (which has gotten slower of the years and isn’t helped by the very cold mornings we’ve been experiencing this fall and winter season). But I trudge through my nearly six miles each day, walking some on weekends.

Then, five days a week, I quickly change after I get home and head to the gym pool with Greg where I swim for 45 minutes.

By the time we get home, I'm done and I can sit down to write and sew and do other activities that require being still. The best part is that I have a feeling of satisfaction that I’m not getting from a lot of other areas of my life because of the pandemic. That’s why I do this whacky thing five days a week.

Movement is partly what has saved me in the nearly year since the pandemic started. While I am not able to do some things in my life that are important to me, especially in my personal life (having dinner parties) and in my professional (taking Chelle Summer to event), at least when I run and swim I feel like I’m moving forward in some way.

The pandemic has forced all of us to rethink not just what’s important to us, but how we maneuver through life when we aren’t able to do the things that help us be hopeful and joyful. And sustain us in the routine of life. For me, one of those aspects has been a several-hour workout, but one then allows me to relax (in my head, at least!), knowing that I’ve completed that part of my day and I can now move into the next part.

Believe

I obviously haven’t written in a month, not because I didn’t have anything to say, but because I felt like I was standing on a soapbox and I was talking to myself (or maybe at least my dogs, Lilly and Ash). It’s often hard in this digital world to know who sees/reads what I might have written. Without likes and comments, I didn’t know, nor did I know how many people who needed to hear my words were just scrolling by, not wanting to dig in deeper to find their hope and peace.

However, that doesn’t mean I don’t have anything to say and I knew I needed to return to my blog. I just didn’t expect the pain to once again explode over the past few days which left me not wanting to write. Again.

Yet this morning I streamed the daily 8:00 am (Pacific Time) mass from the Cathedral of Los Angeles, a place where Greg and I once attended mass, and something I’ve been doing nearly daily since the start of the pandemic. The priests, especially the Archbishop, have what I think of as very “thoughtful” words. The way the Archbishop speaks, I sense that he really has contemplated the words that he will speak, the words he is seeking to help people find hope and peace in this time.

This morning in his homily he said two very relevant things– “Everything is unfolding in the providence of God” and then “No matter what happens in our lives, the cross is the answer.”

I immediately thought I should post one of these to my church’s social media pages (of which I handle), that they are words many people would appreciate especially today.

However, something stopped me. I wondered, “What do I say to the people who ask, ‘Where is God in all this?’”

I believe there is a reason, a path, an opportunity, in all this pain. I believe (especially having worked with many grieving people), that everything happens for a reason and if we embrace the new doors and windows to open in it, somehow we will find our way through it. I also know that life isn’t meant to be easy and good all the time. Many storms are thrown our way and it’s how we react to those storms that helps us learn and grow.

It’s not fair. None of its fair. I have my moments of frustration and irritation and find myself having to work harder not to let it overwhelm me.

I don’t have the answers, but I also know that often in the thick of things we won’t find the answers. Sometimes we have to walk, to keep walking, to keep believing (no matter how hard that is), and have faith that one day we will understand.

Life has taught me many times that if I do that, at some point I will understand. Keep the faith, everyone. As the song goes, don’t stop believing.