WOW! It’s been one year :)

It’s a real one’s birthday! 

Can you believe it’s been one year since I started this here blog? I was kindly reminded by the automatic renewal invoice of my domain name this AM. But even then, I didn’t realize the gravitas of the automatic payment. It wasn’t until I logged in to do some editing and sharpen my eye for erroneous grammar, did it hit me: one year and one day ago I embarked on my journey as a writer.  I wielded an un-maxed credit card and a determination to invest in my dream of becoming a blogger. The site was an outlet to unleash my creativity, practice writing, share my experience, connect with a soul or two, and build up the courage to publish a book. Instantly, I felt I was living my Oprah-sized dreams. So much has happened in just one year. Those were simpler, high energy, highly-motivated times. A book has since been published, posts have been regularly uploaded, and resources, as well as coaching, have been purchased to move the needle in my favor.


I bobbed and weaved in and out comfort zones. I tried and liked hot, hip-hop vinyasa yoga, meditated regularly, quit drinking (then relapsed), and started drinking again (hey, I’m human), ate healthier (then back to cheap carb loading), all in an effort to shake old habits and define success as my state of being. It was a journey of one step forward and three steps back, the whole way. Improvement and growth are funny that way, and very similar to the tides of the ocean. The water races to the shore, and contracts back into the depths of the sea. Life is a lot like that.  Somedays I’m in and others I’m out. Sometimes I’m even stagnant. My patience wavers, and I’m constantly questioning my judgment or motivation. My ego desperately wants to hold tight to the self-sabotaging habits I’ve formed along the way and keep me playing small. You see, I’ve hit the highest of highs, and still felt like, whoa, is this it? Is this all? I don’t feel any different or any more accomplished. Everything was pretty much the same. The issue lied in one important factor: I didn’t choose myself. I looked at external factors to make me feel successful. I thought that once I published the book, I would surely feel successful. I’d get the movie deal or book deal, or at be a least freelance writer full-time. I’d leave my corporate job. Tell the haters (what haters?) to suck it. But instead, it seems to have made me feel like I haven’t done enough, haven’t sold enough, haven’t self-promoted enough.


What did I truly expect? That overnight all my problems would be solved, all worry displaced because I wrote some book. As if! I should know better, but my ego is not ready to let go of feeling sorry for herself, feeling inadequate, and doing everything in her power to stay in her comfort zone or avoid the true issue. The issue is that I’m addicted to judgment—addicted to positive reinforcement, self-comparison, and negative opinions, whether imposed upon me or directed outward. I have to constantly love on myself, remind myself that I’m doing the best I can (and that others are doing their best, too), and that what’s for me, won’t ignore me. Navigating success is like an old-fashioned wind-up toy. You pull back to gain momentum, direct the toy in the direction of your choice, and let it go. All this in the hopes that it goes straight into the direction you hoped. Instead, it veers off to the left or right, or maybe it hits the wall or your big brother’s toe. Sometimes, it goes nowhere at all. The point is that you have to be patient, reposition that wind-up toy car, pull it back, and let it rip—all this knowing that it could go anywhere, but that you will keep trying to get it to the goal line or go the longest distance it can without hitting a soul or a wall.


I’m more excited than ever to see what’s next and where my journey is leading me. I will trust myself to know where my calling lies. The next chapter of ‘my success’ will be just that—a success that is my own and all because I chose me. Choose you and your cup will be full enough to serve and inspires others.