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It Took A While to Realize That I Too Was Born This Way

Sometimes Daily
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An abstract duality

There are people who come into our lives for different purposes. The kindred connection I get sometimes with not-so-random strangers sets off an alarm to my mental stability. But then I remember how interconnected we really are, even if it’s taboo to feel a connection with those outside of our immediate circles.

Then there are people who serve a greater purpose. Those who come to this earth to remind the quiet girl on a train that life is more than just what you make of it. Life is embracing the reality you choose to make your own. It was at this moment that I realize that after all this time, it took an eccentric girl from my old stomping grounds to tell me that I, too, was born this way.

It takes a special kind of person to understand the lifestyle of an entrepreneur. There are some who drop out of college, find some rich people to give them loads of cash so they can build a conglomerate. Many of us aren’t that connected or lucky, however you choose to define luck. Sometimes we toil away for years and barely scratch the surface. Other times we spend an eternity only to find that each obstacle became a chapter in our eventful journeys. Everyone’s trajectory is different and even though many entrepreneurial tales are similar, how we deal with it is as unique as can be.

The truth is, this lifestyle is not for everyone. Sometimes it’s not for those who do choose to pursue an entrepreneurial lifestyle. Many of worthy opponents have crashed and burned. But I’ll be damned if I have to confine myself to the damnation that is cubicle hell. I remember one time, throwing in the towel and when I went back to traditional employment. I cried for 2 weeks at my cubicle which says alot for the girl who doesn’t cry…publicly. It was more than shame. It was a punishment from something. As I look back now, I didn’t really know what that something was but I knew sitting in an office working by someone else’s rules was not it. I wanted more and it took years to accept the fact that it’s ok to want more.

You see there more people than not, who are content with what they have. Not everyone is aspirational. Not everyone wants to do or be more than what or where they are. That’s fine. Setting goals beyond your reach and outside of one’s comfort zone is not for just anyone.

Who raises their hands to constantly getting knocked down each time they try to do something new?

As I recall, there are plenty of psychology classes that teach students about this very thing about behavior modification as it relates to motivation and action. So I ask again, who volunteers to enter a world where you’ll get berated more times than not, where you’re constantly under a microscope, where you second guess your every move, where few people understand why you’re up until 3am many nights? It’s not easy and most people want easy. Drudging along the rat race is easy. Standing behind ideologies that we’re somehow supposed to choose between work and pleasure is no way to live, but many do and they’re ok with it. They can be ok with it, for them. But for me, well I want more. Why?

Because I was born this way.

Standing in line with the masses and following rules set before me was never in my DNA. And yes it took 30+ years to realize this in a way that makes sense for me. It’s a rather empowering moment to fully understand why you do the things you do when it goes against what others are taught to do. Many people don’t get it. Even those that say they do, don’t really. Not unless they’re in the bubble with you.

This culture is not about labels. It’s deeper than a job title. It’s about fulfilling a purpose, sometimes a purpose greater than yourself. It’s about designing the reality you want to accept. Sacrificing everything you are to become someone who you’re not even familiar with is a scary concept. But it’s embracing this fear that sets us apart from the masses. It’s that fear that fuels our spirit and gives us the wings we need to soar.

It took listening to Lady Gaga to realize this. This is the beauty of intention. When you believe in the laws of attraction, inspiration comes to you when you need it the most. And for one moment on a pre-summer Monday evening, it took one song to remind me of something that my subconscious was keeping from my conscious mind. In a world where there are so many different people, yes, we entrepreneurs are also born this way.

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My Battle With Lunesta

Sometimes Daily
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Not quite sure my use of the word battle on a post-memorial day is appropriate but whatever. I took a pill at 9:3opm in an attempt to call it an early night. For me early is 11pm and well hey, it’s 11pm-ish now.

So what did I do during this 90 minute transitional coma? What I do best while blurry eyes and a randomly loopy: client work. Yay! Go me. I’m probably what we call a functional junkie. Good to know should I happen to fall into a crack addition phase.

Around the 10 minute mark, and to my surprise, the medication starting kicking in. Generally I would give myself 90 minutes b/c it would take a while to kick in. Not tonight. Just my luck. So yes, updating work madness ensues.

I’ve done client work on no sleep, half a bottle of wine and others which shall remain nameless. So why now Lunesta is giving me such a hard time is beyond me. I mean really. It’s a tiny small blue pill. It’s not like those vitamins sized to neutralize a horse. It’s a simple lil pill designed to make us go to lala land.

Sadly though, I’ve come to realize lala land involves a personal life that I can’t seem to shake. At 11:15pm, why am I trying to rationalize one for another.

There’s additction #1: Work.

I call it being passionate or an enthusiast. Others have not-so-funny choice words for it. This commitment to my goals (2+ for me) is now manifesting not-so-cool symptoms like insomnia and perfectionism. Boo hoo. Now what. Ah prescription medication to the rescue and even with that I fight it off.

How deep does self-sabotage really go??

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What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up

Sometimes Daily
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If you’re not an active participant in your life, then you will find yourself serving the role of audience member, watching and waiting for the next scene.

It takes a lot to change. It takes a strong sense of self, even if that sense comes from a lack of confidence. It’s not just about believing in yourself. We have to have the genuine desire to want to change.

It’s not easier said than done. There are some people who are content with the status quo. I’ve come to realize that not everyone is destined for greatness. Not everyone has ambition or a desire to aim higher. And it took a lot for me to accept this because my reality is not necessarily the next person’s reality.

We’re only responsible for ourselves. Anyone who comes along for the ride is a bonus, a luxury we cannot take for granted.

With that said, there comes a time when we stop and come to a realization that enough is just enough. I’ve always said that insight is soooo underrated. Not everyone gets the kind of clarity that I do. My issue has never been about knowing what I need to do but rather mustering up the will to do something about it.

This week I’ve been doing alot of soul searching. And it’s not like there’s a fire under my ass just yet. I mean yea there is but it’s only the one I put there myself. And that right there has been the crux of my main challenges in life.

Priding myself in being critical is starting to take its’ toll. Not saying that I’ve completely abandoned my expectations of myself and others, but I’m learning to reshape what my expectations ought to be given that no one is as perfect or ideal as I’d like them to be. People make mistakes and it’s ok.

So tonight I’m taking time to re-evaluate my goals so that they’re aligned with who I want to be. It’s never too late to answer the “what do you want to be when you grow up” question. Hopefully this time around I’ll know what I’m saying when I write down my answers.

Photo source: Robert S. Donovan

Be Brave Enough to Live Creatively

Sometimes Daily
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Maria shared a fortune with me

I’m not quite sure where my block is. In 2 days I’ve felt the weight of 2+ years of aimless wondering, unclear of where I’m at but more importantly, where I’m going.

For some people, it takes an unfortunate accident before slamming into a tree. I’ve never wanted the same fate but lately I can’t help but wonder if a dark abyss is my tree and if a maddening insanity represent the broken legs I’d have if I had slammed into a tree. It’s not as if I need to break anything since lately it feels like I’ve been broken beyond repair thus far.

And then I get signs, the same signs I pray for and ignore because there’s an internal block. Is it emotional? Mental? I don’t know which, but to be honest, I rather have the annoying voice telling me self-deprecating nothings than hear voiceless crickets banging their antennas into my frontal lobe.

I’m sure glad I was not around when lobotomies were the norm. If I were then somewhere in suburbia I’d be a miserable housewife with a bunch of kids I’d secretly resent. Instead I’m here, wondering and wondering some more, as if free thought were a curse because thinking it so makes reality that much more tougher to live in.

But wise words were bestowed upon me and in trying to salvage whatever mess my unconscious has left, I too will muster the confidence and courage to be brave enough to live creatively. To be brave enough to accept creation. To be brave enough to allow creative things to manifest themselves.

It’s not enough to have insight. This I know. This is something I’m good at preaching. All this time, though, the preaching wasn’t for anyone else. It was always for me. And it wasn’t until now that I understand why things happen in the way that they do.

We don’t get what we want, but we always get what we need. And when we don’t need it anymore, we get it again and again until we accept the fact that our wants aren’t addressed until our needs are fulfilled first.

Life is funny that way.

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Finding Your Voice and Keeping It: Not the Same

Sometimes Daily
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Sitting at a Starbucks, my 2nd and 3rd home, I look around at all the people passing by, in their short sleeves and “Thank God it’s Spring” smile, and it hits me: finding my voice and maintaining it are two entirely separate beasts.

I have 2 songs repeating on my phone: Teenage Dream by Katy Perry and Animals by Neon Trees. Minus a little addiction I have with Glee, these songs are becoming my Spring anthem because they reflect a sense of optimism and happiness, two things I’ve struggled in conveying with my voice.

If perception is reality, then my writing esteem is about as low as perhaps that of my self. It’s a work in progress, and masking my insecurities with my voice with the illusion of busy-ness and perfectionism does not take away from the fact that I want to be a writer that people actually read.

Slaying whatever demons I have to unleash that voice is not only crucial but necessary if I want to have any sense of normality and sanity in my life. I’ll deal with the repercussion later.

So after a mini-hiatus I’m back on track to finding that voice I knew I had but was unsure if it was worth sharing. And now that it is, it’s time to keep that voice consistent and vocal so that my snarkness can bring joy (or the occasional misery) to others.

Yes, I’m playfully evil that way!

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2 Points for Listening to My Gut

Sometimes Daily
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So another week has passed by. The Jets are not in the Superbowl, sadly. Not that I’m a fan. I like competitive sports and respect any NY team, enough to root for them when they are winning. Seeing them lose though made me thank God that I’m a baseball fan instead. Go Yankees!

On this cold Sunday I sit on the sofa, watching When Vacations Attack because I like watching Mother Nature’s sense of humor. It’s funny. Unfortunately, most of the stories on this show lack one fundamental rule of survival: listen to your gut.

Freak accidents happen but I believe that most times there’s a nagging voice in the pit of your gut that tells you to use sound judgement before bungee jumping with a shopping cart. I listen to my gut more and more and find that not only am I happier but I avoid undesirable situations. Today was one of those times.

Staying home (minus the late evening trip to Ikea) was a time saver. Wasting my time is something I want to avoid this year. And sorry, but vegging in front of the TV watching the Vampire Diaries is not wasting my time. It’s only wasting my time when it’s doing something I don’t like to do.

On a Sunday night, it’s not that deep. It just is what it is.

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The Day I Gave Myself Permission To Get Sick

Sometimes Daily
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I hate sick days, just as much as the next person. Sadly I don’t have insurance to offset any potential symptoms of Swine Flu. But one of the main reasons why I hated getting sick was the helplessness feeling that comes with it. The inability to control every sneeze, cough, wheezing breath, watery eye or throbbing headache. Yes I am a Type A control freak when it comes to that and truth be told, slowing down for even half a day because of a few sniffles boils my blood…or at least it used to.

This time around I’ve given myself permission to be sick. It’s quite a liberating feeling. I can feel that my healing process will be cut in half since I’m also not battling self-induced stress and anxiety. It takes alot to admit when something does not work and all this time I’ve realized that my former state of being was not conducive to my physical, emotional or mental well-being. I’m lucky. I’m a freelancer who controls my work flow. I don’t have a psychotic employer micro-managing my every move. This makes appreciating some down time that much easier.

One of the things that I always find myself doing, as I lie down in a dark room listening to old 80s music, is I reflect. This reflection of the past, present and future is probably why I detested being sick. Who wants to take stock of life when we’re at our worst? But then I read an article from a writer who I’ve come to admire:

How to Be Yourself

Sometimes inspiration comes in the most inconspicuous signs. A butterfly. Losing your job. Watching karma at play. Or reading the words that your inner voice has been longing to hear. It was at that moment that I became comfortable with being sick because for me it’s always been about my body telling me to slow down and until today, I’ve always resisted it. Maybe it’s going against Western civilization to take time and recharge. We spend every waking moment trying to be somebody so that we can feel like we’re doing something. Or maybe the antihistamine drops have gotten to my head.

Maybe once I’m all better I’ll renounce this flight of fancy. Maybe. But for now this is where I’m at. This is where I want to be and make no qualms about it. And I say this in between sneezes and a watery eye that sees no end to the crying.