Out with the old...

Time to de-clutter. Again.

I've recently coined the phrase "The Bank-of-American Dream" to reflect my feelings about the US economy, consumerism, indebtedness and the continued growth in wealth of the richest 1% of my fellow citizens while the rest of us are a paycheck from couch-surfing (or are already there -- if we are lucky to have a friend with a couch.) The old "American Dream" of a house and a new car and the newest appliances, and ... and ... and ... does not serve us well. It enslaves us.

Last New Year's, I chose to de-clutter my mind with a three-day meditation retreat at Breitenbush. I had just decided that I was on my chosen path -- working for UO and Alaska, nice house, large plot of land, critters. No man in my life, but that was planful, too. Who needs those complications? Not I!

So of course, it was at the three-day (silent) meditation that I met Jerry. Funny how life works.

Since then, I have wiped my 5-year / rest-of-my-life plan clean and rethought what it means to be successful.

And I have decided that success cannot – should not – be defined by the things you own. Because ultimately, that is really a calculation of how indebted you are.

So, for 2011, I'll start the plan to de-clutter.

De-clutter what? Everything.

I believe that, at the end of 2015 (when I am 55), I will be completely debt free. I will have sold the house, the furniture, the stuff. Probably still have a dog or two (maybe even all four...). I will find a way to live for free.

I also plan to give up my UO job by 2015. And if we are successful in our bid for the next Alaska contract, that will be winding down in 2016.

I've got a few projects that I think will fund my minimalist existence...

• Michelle and I will write at least one book and it will be a success
• The Continuum of Autism Spectrum Traits (C.O.A.S.T.) will bring income to both Sidney and me
• I'll pick up a few other interesting projects, write a few grants, between now and then.

Of course, not paying a mortgage is a significant savings.

De-clutter. In the event of a fire, what is worth saving? Really, only the people and critters. That tells me a lot about how important the rest of the stuff is.


Shalom,

Kim

It's the end of a most amazing year...

... And the start of an even better one!

Michelle Jensen (my best friend, business partner, and Idea Popcorn Generator) and I took on a small project a few months ago -- we agreed to help a local organization that is working with several villages in Kenya to build community capacity.

Capacity for what?

Well, everything. It started with schools. Morphed into adult literacy. Spread into water wells, ecology, farming... All led by the needs of each community.

The problem was: how to organize all of these activities into an Annual Report / Presentation to potential donors?

The answer: The Annual Measure of Success (AMOS), (c) Kim Sherman and Michelle Jensen. (Email me if you are interested in the tool).

The Kenya director seemed very excited. Michelle may peddle the AMOS to some NGOs in Central and South America while she is there this Winter and Spring, and I'll see if a few other programs are interested in using the tool to measure their success.

Of course, the key to knowing if you've been successful is to start by defining what success will look like.

True in schools, in NGOs, in private businesses.

True in life...

Wow. Where did the Summer go?

I feel like I must have inadvertently stepped into a time machine. Seems like yesterday was mid-August, now suddenly October is nearly done.

Let's see if I can remember what has happened...

In August, Sara and I traveled to Seattle to watch a production of Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida, put on by the production company Jake and a few friends have founded. Well done. Sometimes actors chant Shakespeare, sometimes they sing-song his lines. Rarely do actors actually speak the lines as in a conversation. Happily, Jake's company's version was the latter.

Next summer, the company (Renamed "Handwritten Productions") will produce Jake's fourth play: The Munich Post. He finished the final draft a month and a half early, and has farmed it out to friends and family for review and comments.

End of August/early September, I went for a week of hiking and touring with the Wolfhounds and a friend from Florida who had never been to the PNW. We spent time in every Oregon Biozone: Mountain, high desert, river valley, lakes, ocean and Portland.

The 'Hounds were awesome traveling companions. And as much as I enjoyed the human company, and seeing Oregon from a newcomer's perspective, I am eager to try a solo hike -- just be me and the dogs. And I'd like to do a long hike with Jerry and the dogs.

Sidney came up for a long weekend, and we "scrubbed" the COAST (Continuum of Autism Spectrum Traits). We are very close to a working prototype. Next step: Find some sites willing to administer and review the scale with their parents, and compare the COAST results to the results of already administered autism tools. Sidney is now busily editing the draft while I re-learn InDesign for the book layout.

Then school started up in September, and I spent a week in Juneau training some teachers on our assessment system for kids with severe cognitive delays. I'll go to Anchorage to deliver the advanced training next week.

I rented out the middle bedroom to a lovely retired gourmet chef /caterer. Christine moved in October 6, and left on the 9th for a week and a half visit in Georgia. I'm nearly done painting her room. The master bedroom is occupied by John Monday through Friday morning -- he's a plumber from Medford working on re-plumbing a state park near Monroe.

And here we are, middle of October. Before the year disappears, I'll find time to visit Jake and Sara, hike with Jerry and the 'Hounds, take my little fishing boat out and do some fishing, and finish some home fixups.

And start planning for Thanksgiving III (Saturday, November 27 -- Sara asked for lamb instead of turkey...)

Life is good. Fast, but good.

Summer has slipped into Fall...

Much has happened since our DC trip, and much remains the same... Isn't that the way life goes?

I've hosted two sets of AirBnB guests in the intervening two months, both sets from the Seattle area. Currently, a nice young man is renting the master bedroom Mondays through Friday morning -- he is a plumber working a job in Junction City, with family and home in Medford. And Christine, a retired gourmet chef, will move into Marshall's room on October 6th. I have the other two bedrooms listed for long term rental, too, and they each have a few nibbles of interest but nothing definite yet.

The garage apartment isn't done yet, but it will be. The main delay is my own procrastination – Jerry is ready to finish the wall, build a bed/storage unit, whatever else needs doing. But I haven't moved my junk out yet. I don't know why... just got busy with other stuff, and the rooms weren't renting, so there didn't seem to be a need.

Now there is a need.

I'm currently in Juneau, just finished a two day training

Loaded...

... and on our way.

Jerry and I spent the first week of August in DC -- I had a conference presentation so we went early and stayed late, and brought folding bikes as our extra luggage.

Even though DC weather in August is pretty close to hellish, we were quite comfy on our bikes (biking creates its own breeze). I felt sorry for the families with their young children, trekking through miles of museum and monument viewing in the 90 degree heat and 70% humidity of the day. They looked like they were melting.

My favorite time was touring all the Mall Monuments from 8 pm to midnight by bike. Did you know that the Park Service gives monument talks up to 11 PM?

After the expense account at the fancy downtown hotel ran out, we spent our last four days at an AirBnB room in Alexandria ($55 a night in a lovely home with great neighbors). A 20 minute metro ride (with our bikes aboard) to Alexandria took us out of the hustle and bustle of "the City" -- and we had frozen custard and sorbet at the same little place that Sasha and Malia treated their dad on Father's day (The Dairy Godmother). Our hosts were lovely kindred spirits, looking to reduce their footprint on the earth and reduce their dependence on the "american dream."

One of the things I am discovering, thanks to long conversations with Jerry and longer meditations on my own, is that the "american dream" is not designed for me. Rather, if I buy into the idea (and I do mean "buy"), someone else gets rich, and I become economically enslaved.

The bikes are a clean symbol of my emancipation...

Tally ho.

Ready for the next half...

I just celebrated my 50th birthday.

I am ecstatic!! I have thought that 50 is the perfect age for women since I was 8 or 9 and my favorite grandmother visited. She had just turned 50 and decided to take a tour of the country to visit family and friends. My grandfather didn't want to go, so she went without him.

She was so happy and energized, I decided then that 50 must be the age of freedom -- kids off on their own, husband safe alone at home if he wants to be, life settled, and time to relax and enjoy your life.

So, yes... Like my grandmother, my kids are healthy and independent, the (ex)husband is safe alone at another home, my life is more or less settled, and I have the time to relax and enjoy my life.

And I have a new guy whom I adore and who seems to like me. We're headed to DC next week – I'm presenting at a conference, then we're going to explore and be tourists. We're bringing folding bikes, and all our gear fits in two bike panniers each.

Grinning from (elderly) ear to (slightly deaf) ear...

Write Now...

My best friend Michelle and I have just started a "Booking Club" with a third amazing friend of ours. We are all three going to meet once a week (starting mid-August) around the goal of getting some of our writing published. We will write during the week, come together for dinner, and share our writings. At our first meeting we will set a date / goal for submitting finished pieces to the New York Times.

Why the NYT?

1) Because it is the New York Times

2) Because the big publishing houses are in New York

3) Because publishers read the New York Times

4) Why not start at the top?

Safe and Sound

The MonkeyGirl is back in Portland, and headed to Boise tomorrow for the bar mitzvah of a friend's little brother.

She seems older somehow. More mature. More sure.

She has a ton of stories (I've heard only a few of them so far), but I think this is my favorite –– The scene: A Bedouin tent in the Negev. Two boys from Jersey in one group, Sara with her group from Oregon.

Kid 1 from Jersey, to Sara:

My friend over there is interested in you.

Sara:

Strike 1 ~ You are talking to me and he's not.

Strike 2 ~ I don't do flings.

Strike 3 ~ I'm involved with someone.

end of conversation. G-d I love that girl.

updated July 3.

She's Safe! (and happy)

Sara called this morning from Israel, where she has been since the 16th. Pretty quickly after getting there, her wallet was stolen. That has been the only hiccup so far... and luckily, her passport was stored safely away from the wallet.

She was bubbling over with excitement. Apparently, there are thousands of photos from the group, so I am looking forward to the slide show. I'll supply the popcorn...

She decided to come home with the group on the 27th, rather than stay for 3 more weeks on her own. Was I worried? Who? Me?

I was "intrigued" at the idea of the girl wandering a war zone on her own. Thankfully, she decided against that.

whew.

Too soon

My nephew Paul died on June 4th. His passing was a shock, and left a hole in our world. Jake and Sara and I went down to the funeral and I've been thinking on many things lately.

The most powerful images from the funeral and the reception were glimpses of the amazing young women my nieces have become. Stephanie is 16 and lost her big brother; Kate is 23 and lost her punching bag puppy dog little brother. Both acted with incredible grace in the face of almost overwhelming sadness.

Poise

Twenty-three is not old enough
Sixteen much too young
to show so much poise
and be so strong.

To move with such grace
through so much pain
and to help so many
learn to smile again.

Though a brother is gone
too soon, too much undone
the sisters too early blossomed
into the women they’ve become.

kim

june 2010

Going Green

Yesterday was a lovely slow Sunday. I got home late Saturday night from Jake's after seeing many of our Peabody Clan.

Spent Sunday "puttering" and doing chores. On my list was "Weedeat the driveway."

Here's my solar-powered automatic weed eater. And he fertilizes too...

Eugene Tame Life

The Girls and I are going hiking this weekend!! They will carry their own food and water, and some of my stuff...

And since I am completely unfocused on my work anyway, I might as well go for a really long walk, right?

Eugene Wild Life

I mean, wildlife...

A gray fox visited me this morning. Of course, I couldn't find my camera, but he looked just like this one (though much wetter -- this IS Eugene, after all):

Common Gray Fox Urocyon cinereoargenteus

Moving through...

Tomorrow, I'll join Jake and Sara in Irvine for a funeral. My sister's 20 year old son died unexpectedly last Friday night. He had just finished his Sophomore year at Purdue. Paul was a force of nature, and I will miss him terribly.

I have no idea how Megan and Don or Kate or Steph are getting through this.

Here's Paul (with Kate, Steph, Megan/Mom and Don/Dad) at his high school graduation, June 2008.

Here's Paul, a knobby-kneed teen, in 2003. He always had that mischievous grin on his face.

Paul's dad, Don, is running for California Assembly. It's looking likely that Don will win the Republican primary (the votes are still being counted...). Because of Don's political activities, Paul's death is being covered in the news. This article also has some nice photos...

What's it all about, Alfie?

My 11th grade English teacher was a 50-something hippie; she'd grown up on a commune and lived life intentionally. A concept I didn't really understand at 16.

The very first question of the first day of class was "What's it all about, Alfie?" and she played the song while we wrote and debated that question. Later, we read the poem "Richard Corey" and played Paul Simon's version.

She taught me about the power of language to influence ideas and the power of ideas to influence language. Lessons I am still learning.

So, now, 34 years later, I return to that first question, and its corollary: Do I own my stuff or does my stuff own me?

I have talked with Jake and Sara about the secret to happiness: find something you would do for free, and then find someone who will pay you to do that. What I am beginning to understand is that, if you live lightly, you could do it for free.

For instance, one of my two jobs earns the money to pay my mortgage. If I didn't have a mortgage, I could give up one of my two jobs. I'm not working for "The Man" – I am working for The House.

But I'm not ready to give up the house, yet. I have a spaghetti bowl full of emotions and self-worth issues and hopes for the future tied up in home-ownership.

So, one step at a time.

Step 1: I am trying to rent out most of the house, for enough to pay the mortgage.

Step 2: I will spend the next months meditating on those emotions, self-worth-issues and hopes-for-the-future. To untangle those strands and separate my Self from my Stuff. Trying to answer that question.

What's it all about?

Love all, trust a few...

... do wrong to none

(Shakespeare, All's Well That Ends Well)

l'dor v'dor

teachers

my teachers once sat upon my lap
played peekaboo and tap-tap-clap
sang songs and told me stories
of bugs and pirates and wonder-glories

my teachers led me by the hand
to follow crabs across the sand
my teachers showed me ‘yellow cars’
and ‘connect the dots’ among the stars

my teachers once bounced upon my knee
and simply asked for all of me
and pulled my face (and focus) near
to share their secrets and their fears

my teachers encouraged asking ‘why’
and debated colors in the sky
hot monsters, bug-guts-&-cockroach pie
smiles so bright to blind my eye

my teachers once leaned against my chest
each so different, while each the best
one an old-soul, kind and knowing
t’other, dancing laugh, glowing 

my teachers patiently led the way
when I was ready, let go one day
tiny hand, unfolded
baby steps, emboldened.

kim may 2010

Mother's Day...

I am a mom.

Though I am many other things, being a mom is the thing that brings me the greatest pride and joy. And the most meaningful lessons have been those which my children have taught me.

A phrase in Hebrew has always been a favorite: l'dor v'dor. From generation to generation. It is important to note that the phrase is not "from elder to child," but allows for teachings from our children to be equally valued.

I've got some rhyme on this, but not quite right yet.

Soon.

Plus, creativity is somewhat hampered by one-handed typing...

Living Piece-fully

A little bit of this, a little bit of that... pieces of a life that are beginning to fit.

Marshall has been hired ( ! ! ) as a graphics artist at the Newport NewsTimes, after two weeks of nail-biting limbo while the publisher tried to find time to hire him. In true "big brother" fashion, he is worried about me and the farm, since he won't be living here anymore. And I'm still a one-armed bandit. So he's going to come out this weekend and do yard work for me.

And I am learning to say "Thank you" and not "No, no, don't – really, I'll do it later." Because, odds are, it will be much later before I do yard work.

Though everything is healing up the way it should, it is just taking a very long time to be healed. Which, apparently, is what happens when one ages. Dang it. I had a follow up visit and x-ray yesterday, got the green light to take my arm out of the sling now and then and stretch it. And got some of those wonderful stretchy exercise bands – next week I get to start some strength building in addition to the stretching. Apparently (and I did ask...), strength building does not include mowing the lawn. Yet.

So, that's Piece #1: Health update.

Piece #2: Job(s) update. Apparently my Alaska boss (JT) and my UO boss (Phil) have decided that I shouldn't work more than the equivalent of one full time job – called an FTE in Oregon (.50 FTE with Alaska and .50 FTE with UO). And they get to decide that because JT is also the department chair of my program at the UO, so is, essentially my direct boss with Alaska, and my UO boss' boss at the UO. Peyton Place.

I haven't had the chance to talk to JT about making decisions about me without including me in the discussion, but I will. Meanwhile, though, I've been thinking... (uh oh) ~ I don't really want to work more than 1.0. The current set up is pretty ideal – enough work to keep me busy and engaged, enough income to pay the bills, a little travel... plus a goodly amount of time to do as I please.

So, I'm not going to fight the decision to limit my workload to one full time equivalent.

Piece #2.1: Other interesting work projects. I'm working with Sidney Ganzler on developing an innovative rating tool for identifying children and adults on the Autism Spectrum Scale. Sidney has known the Shermans for more than 50 years, and was one of the friends who held up the chupah at Dave's and my wedding. Sidney is a Psychologist, and has a brilliant idea for the rating scale. He came up for 3 days of work and 1 play day a few weeks ago, and we made significant progress on the scale. Now we each have homework, and he'll return at the end of the month for finishing touches. Working 1.0 FTE with Alaska and UO allow me the space and time to focus on the autism rating scale with Sidney. A good thing.

But, Piece #3: The House. I have some repairs I need to make to the house. The repairs will require extra income to fund. New roof, leaking pipes, some water stains at the base of two walls (which could mean bigger problems), insulation, landscaping, etc.

So I'm going to rent out rooms. I've listed three of my rooms on a cool site (airbnb.com) which was started in order to help folks find rooms or even spare couches in DC for the Inauguration, and has since ballooned into a worldwide resource in over 3200 cities.

You can view my listings.

The UO is hosting the NCAA Track and Field Championships again this June – maybe I'll get a chance to play B'n'B hostess, and try this out in the next few weeks. I like the idea of short term guests – I'll get to meet some interesting people, earn a little income. And even if they are horrible guests, they won't be here that long.

and finally, Piece #4: Relationship. Sorry, that's Private. But this piece is what is making the other pieces fall into place...

The Oh-Oh file...

Last year, when Mars died unexpectedly, I realized that living on my own has some implications around making plans for dying on my own. As half of a couple, Dave and I at least had a sense of where the bank records, insurance documents, etc existed, and if one or the other of us were to die, the other could work out the financial paperwork on his or her own, without too much trouble.

It's been nearly a year since Mars passed, and I haven't completed the Oh-Oh file yet. Recently, I took a tumble that turned out okay, but could just as easily have been really not okay, and now I'm motivated all over again.

So, what's in the Oh-Oh file? a roadmap to information, essentially. An emergency contact list, bank accounts, online passwords, life insurance, a will (gotta update that, too), where to find the deed to the house, title to the truck, all that boring stuff.

When Mars died, some of his family apparently knew his Facebook sign-in info, and posted lovely updates and the invitation to the Life Celebration. That was nice, so I'll include social networking account info, too.

I don't intend to need this file for many many more years. But creating it feels like a grown-up thing to do. And I do plan to grow up sometime in the next twenty years or so...

Big Rocks

Lately, I've been meditating on my calendar / work life / play life. I don't have any answers or decisions, but I'm asking questions I hadn't anticipated needing to answer when I left Dave and set up my new 5-year plan. Only two years into it, and I'm rethinking.

I thought I wanted to work A LOT, on a variety of professional projects (research, professional writing, personal writing, UO, Alaska, consulting, workshops) and develop the dog kennel (hiking, showing, breeding, puppy sales), travel once a year with Jake and Sara and a multi-day hike once a year on my own (with 'Hounds). Time with Jake and Sara, extended family, friends. Though most of that is still on my list, I've got this new thing to work in and adjustments to make around spending time with someone else. I'm not sure how to do all of that yet. Except that I need to consider carefully the impact of potential increased work commitments starting this Fall.

And part of me hesitates to make big changes that may close an avenue, because I am aware that each of these activities could disappear from the list for any number of reasons. Gam zeh ya'avor (this too shall pass)...

But hedging my bets feels like only half-assed focus / commitment, which of course may have its own consequences.

For now, I'll just muddle through what's currently on the calendar, and accept my changing focus ~ and develop better skill in managing my calendar, rather than letting my calendar manage me. A friend talks about putting the big rocks into the vase first. If you think of your day as a vase, and your "to do" items as a variety of materials (big rocks, pebbles, sand, water), then the formula is like this: Big rocks are those things that refresh our souls, but that we tend to not put on our calendar (in our vase), because we are busy with the tasks that have due dates... represented by pebbles, sand and water. You can put in the pebbles to your day, add sand, fill in with water, and not have room for the big rocks. But, if you put in the big rocks first (exercise, time with friends, meditation, walks with dogs, etc), then the pebbles and sand and water can fill around those.

It's a matter of priorities. Those items not in the day's vase may be very important to my well-being, but leaving them out means I have chosen another priority.

I dunno. This is all kinda new: challenging and exciting and chaotic and scary and comforting all at once. I am blessed and cursed with unlimited possibilities.

Okay. One day at a time. Big rocks first...

Protections

I am the first to admit that I am not brave; I wait until I must take some action or make some change, and then I make the change. But I have tended to ignore those situations until I finally get to the point that change is inevitable and necessary.

And then I choose a new direction. I think bravery would be to recognize when a relationship is going south before I get to the point of no return. I'm working on it...

Three or four years ago, I got to one of those forced forks in the road, where something had to change. After two years of negotiations, I finally understood that the only change I could control was within me. Change my circumstances, change my plans, change my goals. Change my job and my marital status. Scary changes, but at that point, absolutely necessary.

After resettling in West Eugene, with two new jobs, I developed some protections to keep myself safe and to reduce emotional risk. I worked a lot. I took hula. I played with my dogs, worked on the farm, built fences. I spent as much time with Jake and Sara as possible (and as they allowed -- they are, after all, pretty busy people). I spent time with dear friends and family. My calendar and plans kept me safely cocooned.

I did not reach out to meet new people (neither men- nor women-people). Then, sometime in September, I decided I needed to break out of isolation. Taking lessons from Jake, I met new folks, asked questions, learned. And broadened my horizons.

On January 1, I practiced this new skill at Breitenbush, where I was spending three days in a meditation retreat. And a whole new world has opened up – a world I am busy exploring.

Protected

I built walls around myself–

invisible walls

strong walls

protective walls

hung with calendars and to-do lists

activities and commitments

My walls have doors and windows–

locked doors

narrow windows

of leaded glass

I wear the keys to my locks and knobs

on a fine chain hung from my heart

Within my walls, behind locked doors

I built my nest

I built my life

I rebuilt my self

removing masks, I hid old façades away

and faced myself by myself

And then I slip'd into the world–

into starlight

into chaos

into magic

leaving my door unlocked and window open

calendar pages floating away.

kim

February 2010

Fear Place?

A recent conversation ended in an assessment I hadn't considered -- I was told that it is nice that I don't go to my "fear place" and take offense at statements. Which has me thinking about the journey I've been on for the last decade of my life.

I think I was exceedingly skilled at stuffing stress down, building walls around the pieces of my life so that I could keep issues and fears at bay, and also so I would never really have to look at those issues and fears.

One catalytic event in May 2006 caused the walls to crack, and I found it increasingly impossible to keep things separate. Like the levies of New Orleans, a little overflow soon eroded the whole system, and I had to either rebuild, or learn to enjoy the floodwaters.

I think that the "fear place" is different than the fear or hesitation or caution I feel when I force myself into uncomfortable situations, either personally or professionally (and which Jacob addresses with "Don't be afraid"). I think maybe the fear place is that little dark spot inside where you are convinced that you are not good, that hinted criticisms or vague critiques get blown into very negative assumptions and hurt feelings. The first is an action, the second a reaction.

I spent a lot of time in my fear place back then. And easily took offense, though not in an assertive, "you can't talk to me like that" kind of way. Rather, I think I took offense at criticisms because I believed all the criticisms to be true.

I have grown up a lot since then. And realize now that I can not change someone else's behavior or attitudes or beliefs. I can only work on presenting an honest view of me. And I can state my boundaries out loud, though I still need to let others decide if they can live with my boundaries. And if they can't, then I have learned to let go of those relationships.

So, do I have a fear place anymore? I suppose I must, but I haven't visited it in so long, I think I've forgotten the path.

Balancing and Focusing

I'm well into my second year as an independent, professional, single woman. My goal has been to develop balance and peace in my life... balancing work with family and friends and hobbies, and making the time to meditate twice a day (usually). At a minimum, I plan to never have shingles again. More broadly, though, I aim to have the time to make time -- so that I am not constantly multi-tasking, and when I am speaking with important people in my life, it is obvious that I am speaking with a person who is important to me.

What does that look like? It means I'm not typing while holding a conversation. It means I am present – here – and connected.

I think that is making a difference in my relationships with friends and family.

Of course I am not at 100% efficacy in this new plan, yet. But that is what I am working on (sort of a New Year's resolution...)

And of course, as in every year, I am working to improve my handwriting.

Learnings

L'dor v'dor

(Hebrew: from generation to generation)

(Also one of my favorite prayer songs)

(and not one-directional...)

Recently, life-teachers seem to surround me, and at the front of the line are Jake and Sara. I've written about Jake's motto (Don't be afraid), and about Sara's efforts to live her life mask-free, even (or especially) around her friendships with young men.

And of course, I've mentioned my own experiments in removing my masks and unfolding from the contorted happydance in which I had become too practiced. Those changes in me had domino effects on so many of the pieces of my life, that sometimes I doubted the wisdom of making those changes, and my own ability to abandon my old ways all-together.

So, is it working? Is honest and direct communication effective?

I think sometimes people are off-put by directness, particularly from women. In my teens, several young men confessed being intimidated by something in me. And the man I was dating before I met Dave thought that I could be the perfect wife, if I were just less opinionated and more accommodating (he wanted me to become Catholic and a military Officer's Wife) (no f-ing way).

Anyway, I've been working on me. Not on "improving" me, but on just being me. And on not letting life pass me by. Learning from Sara and Jake, I am just who I am, the same me for everyone I meet. Either that is interesting to another or not. Best to find out up front, rather than change to fit what I think another is looking for. As Jake has said, "There are 6 Billion people on earth; I don't need to be your friend."

I'm here to say, "It works."