Author: Julie Bielecki

Julie Bieleckihttps://jbaun.wordpress.comA happy ending depends on where, of course, you stop your story. And at any given moment, you have the power to say, "This is not the way the story is going to end." And so that's me- determined to make the good, the bad and the ugly days all part of a tapestry that creates a happy ending. My writing is a glimpse into that story- My struggles, my hopes, my thoughts--I was a teen mom, raised Evangelical and am now Post Evangelical. I was a young widow at 26, and am now a divorced single mom. My life is a messy closet. And if there are moments where you read my stuff and say, "Ahhh- you too? I thought I was the only one." Then my heart will be full. My 3 kids are my best stuff. They make the journey worth the ride. My family is my strength. My faith is both the quiet and confusion of my heart. I'm a lover of God, kindness, running, reading, shopping and beer. Not necessarily in that order. If it has a bow on it, I want it. Make me laugh and we'll always be friends. xo, julie

Where There is Love, There is Life

I am learning, learning, learning about love. Everyday. All the time. Not just romantic love, because, HELLOOO– Terrifying. But real love. All kinds of love. What it is. What it’s not. What feels like love. What decidedly does NOT feel like love. I even have a Pinterest board called, “Love or Something Like It” that I’ve been working on for a while now. 389 pins. But who’s counting? I know the name seems a little vague, but here’s the thing– We think OF COURSE we know what love is. But do we really? I don’t always know that I do. But I do know I want to get better at it. All of it. (So it’s almost like Pinterest is EDUCATIONAL. Smiling. I am totally smiling at this thought.)

And so recently, while I was ruminating about love, I unintentionally had identical conversations with two different people who land on two totally different paradigms of what is a very messy issue~

Conversation #1:

A friend and I are chatting casually about God, church, relationships and such. She talks about being raised in a deeply religious home, with extremely zealous parents, particularly her father. She refers to him as the type of guy who would stand on street corners downtown, handing out Christian literature and telling people Jesus loves them. (I know. Cringe worthy) But she went on to say that her dad is THE kindest person she knows. Super loving, super friendly. And then somehow, segues into telling me that her brother is gay.

“Ohhhh man. In such a religious family, how the heck did that go over? How did your parents handle that?” I asked in total wonder. (Sadly preparing for the worst.)

“They were actually okay about it. I mean, it was hard, but it’s their son. They love him and support him. What could they do about it? We’re all close. It’s fine. I mean, we love him.”

Conversation #2:

Another close friend and I are chatting. She is lamenting that she has not heard from her son, who also happens to be gay. She can’t understand why he doesn’t come to visit. Rarely calls. Doesn’t seem to make time for her. She misses him. She has, however, made it repeatedly clear that she does not accept that he is gay. Does not approve of his lifestyle. Cannot condone it. Refuses to try to understand. To try and…adjust. And no, he is not welcome to bring his partner when he visits. She will not have “that” in her home. ‘He needs to respect her beliefs and her wishes.’ And so there she sits. Alone. And sad. But by God, sticking to her principles. And while I try to empathize with the seeming complexity of the issue, I’m so struck by the fact that she could make different choices that would lead to better outcomes– and yet how she would rather draw a hard-line, regardless of the cost and loss it has led to.

I get that this can be complicated. And messy. And gray. And I also get that very many of you will absolutely land squarely on one side or the other, with no doubt in your mind and actually tell me that it’s clearly black and white for you. I can’t answer tough theological questions about it. I can’t even say anything all that profound about it. And it’s totally within the realm of the way I think to actually hold a few opposing thoughts about the whole thing. But I can tell you this: I know which one feels like love. And which one doesn’t.

Conversation #1 felt like love to me. It felt like Jesus-love to me, because I’m quite sure it was sacrificial love; As though this mom and dad had a love so big, and so wide, and so deep, they were able to lay down their “rights” as parents, their need for religion to reign, so that love could reign instead. It saved their family, but it also may have saved their son. I walked away feeling grateful. Grateful for generous love. Grateful for love that accepts, forgives, overlooks, embraces. For love that leads to life.

Conversation #2 was hard. It was frustrating. Stiff. Stubborn. It was sad. I couldn’t help but think about the years that are being wasted while they both miss out on so much because of my friend’s daily conscious choice to not love her son unconditionally. It has felt hopeless to try to expand her thinking in any way~

I get that you have your beliefs. I get that it makes you uncomfortable. But what I don’t get is your inability to set all of that aside for the sake of love. For the sake of your son. For the sake of wholeness in your family. And really, for your own sake. I know you– and I want to believe that you possess bigger love than that in the deepest places of your heart. After all, you love ME– and damn if I couldn’t give you a thousand reasons why I’m not entirely worthy of love either.

The lack of love here has led to death– the death of relationships, of family, of connection. And it’s being grieved daily. By both parties.

I think what makes me most sad is that my friend thinks she’s loving Jesus in her convictions. And so that’s why I try so very hard not to judge her. She.Thinks.She’s Loving.Jesus. By refusing to accept her son and his lifestyle. And it reminds me of all the times I thought I was loving Jesus by judging and correcting and refusing to accept. And I grieve that now. That misperception of love. That disullisionment.

I certainly could never claim to know exactly what Jesus is thinking. But everywhere I look in the Bible, love comes first. Always. Love above everything else. Because love leads to life. And if we’re still ever asking the question, “What would Jesus do?”, I can’t help but think it seems pretty clear. Maya Angelou once said, “When you know better, you do better.” And when it comes to love, all I know is, I want to do better.

If this is an issue you wrestle with and you’d like to read more, please read about one couple’s heartrending journey with their son over at Rage Against the Minivan.

The Un-Fun Truth about Self-Discipline

I didn’t write a blog post last week. Or finish one, anyway. I started 3 or 4 different posts that felt totally inspired when I first got into them. But somehow, I lost interest and they suddenly they didn’t seem so great after all. Whatever the case, I skipped a week. And even though I was a little disappointed, I totally cut myself some slack. (Super generous and sweet of me, right?) But the days have passed quickly and here it is, next week already, and I still didn’t have anything prepared; Just several unfinished posts…waiting. Undone. Incomplete. But this week, it doesn’t feel like NBD. This week it feels lazy. It feels like too much time wasted scrolling through Facebook and Twitter and Instagram. And Pinterest. (Ohhhh. Pinterest. How I love thee. Hashtag TIMESUCK. GIANT. HUGE. TIME SUCK. But Please. Never leave me.)

There’s an un-fun truth here that won’t leave me alone: In my life, writing needs to be a daily discipline. Just like working out. Just like eating well. Just like making time for reading or meditation, or anything else that requires brain power, body power, will power, or focus. It’s a discipline. And generally speaking, we tend to resist things that are even loosely connected to discipline. Or maybe it’s just me. I tend to resist things that are even loosely connected to discipline.

self-dis·ci·pline
noun
the ability to control one’s feelings and overcome one’s weaknesses; the ability to pursue what one thinks is right despite temptations to abandon it.
synonyms: self-control; restraint, self-restraint, self-command; willpower, purposefulness, strong-mindedness, resolve, moral fiber; doggedness, persistence, determination, grit

By very definition, self-discipline sorta sucks. I mean. Ugh.

Self-discipline equates with hard. It requires something of us. It costs us something– time, energy, pleasure, sleep, relaxation. And yet, the hard is what leads to greatness. The hard is what separates the men from the boys. The badasses from the wimps. The accomplished from the unaccomplished. Catch me at the wrong time and I’m likely to say, “Who cares?” But the truth is, I do. I tell my girls all the time: We can do hard things. If it was easy, everyone would do it. The hard is what makes it great.

“If it was easy, everyone would do it. The hard is what makes it great.”

If I want to grow as a writer, increase my readership and finish the books I’ve started writing, I need to discipline myself. If I want to grow as a runner, I need to discipline myself. If I want to be healthy and fit, If I want to eat clean, If I want to feel good, If I want to be the best mom I can be, I need to discipline myself. Even when I don’t feel like it. Even when it’s not convenient. Even when the hot flash of inspiration has passed. Even when my social media is all lit up with stuff more exciting than…this. There are always plenty of good reasons to cut myself some slack, with “I deserve it” being my favorite and most used line. Ever. Discipline for anything is hard. It hurts. It’s a conquering of the lesser part of ourselves with the better part of ourselves.

Here’s the un-fun truth. As much as I love social media. And reading. And doing crafty Pinteresty things. And shopping. And candy corn. And beer. Lots of candy corn and beer, too much of any of these things will keep me from reaching my goals, no matter how good and deserving they feel at the time. And if ever there were passing pleasures, all of these things rank right up there. Do I really want to sacrifice (insert important goal here) for candy and Pinterest? Um. Some days I do. But not mostly. Really. Not mostly.

Somewhere along the way, our brains started firing backwards about what it truly means to be good to ourselves. Why does my brain equate both physical and mental junk food with indulgence and pleasure, yet link hard work and successful, meaningful results (that I truly want to achieve) with deprivation? Self- discipline is a gift we give ourselves so that the things we want most are not over shadowed by the things we want now.

We all sort of know there are no shortcuts to greatness. We just wish it weren’t true. (If there are, I swear on everything holy I will find them for us and pin them. Trust me. They’ll be on my “Shortcuts to Greatness” board) Author Jim Rohn has said, “Suffer the pain of discipline or suffer the pain of regret” and “Discipline is the bridge between goals and accomplishment.” And really, who could disagree with such clearly inspirational statements ~~that sort of make me feel crappy~~ ? Not this girl. And so here I sit, with a beer and a bowl of candy corn beside me, about to press “Publish” on this bad boy and recommit myself to the process of self-discipline. Because after all, I deserve it.

Love Me Extra Today

You guys- I saw this quote on a pin late last night when I was working the Pinterest graveyard shift (any girl will tell you- YES- that’s a thing) and it’s totally messing me up today. Imagine this? Imagine if love was really this simple? Imagine if we could just say to each other, on really tough days- stressful days- insecure days- sad days-overwhelming days, ‘Love me extra today’?

I love John Mayer’s music. And even though he was apparently a total DB to Taylor Swift, whom I. Adore. I’m trying to overlook that for a few moments here. (And Mom, I’ll tell you what DB means later.) His music is the perfect combination of passion and angst- and sort of predictably, Heartbreak Warfare is one of my favorite songs:

If you want more love, why don’t you say so?

If you want more love, why don’t you say so?

But I wanna know: Can people really do this? Do you guys love like this? If you want more love, can you really just say so? I’m trying to figure out if this is …legit. Could we really just tell the people in our lives so plainly on the days we need extra love? (Maybe you guys already do this easily and you know…it’s just ME that’s having an awakening here.)

I am a semi-recover[ing]{ed} self-proclaimed Queen of Passive Aggressive Behavior (I know. It’s not good. I’m working on it and I’ve gotten better. For real though.) For myself and other PA types, asking for what we need is hard. But this seems easy. Too easy. Even I could ~~text this~~ say this. I could have the courage to ask for extra love on tough days. And I could hear this request from someone else and not feel defensive or threatened or… like I was not enough.

I want my girls to know this, my boy to know this, the people in my life that I love and that love me–Because this isn’t just about lovers. It’s about all of us being able to identify our own needs and love better. When we ask for what we need, we’re loving better. This feels revolutionary to me. I know maybe it’s not– but the simplicity of it all moves me. Asking for more love. Saying ‘Love me extra today’ feels like a novel concept- A beautiful novel concept.

Simply ask for more love.

Somebody, talk to me. Tell me what you think.

First Day Reflections

Could there really ever be anything new to say about the first day of school? As I sit here this morning with my coffee in a silent and still house, my heart is so full and yet, as always, a little raw; Tender thoughts and feelings about those two not-so-little girls that set out for their school day this morning. No one is tucked up snuggly in their bed still dozing in and out of sleep. No one is watching Netflix and grazing on breakfast food and lolling about with no particular plans for the day but to swim and sun and play… It’s over. Summer came. We saw. We conquered. A good time was had by all. And now it’s over. And although we prepared in every possible way these last few weeks to be ready for this morning– The clothes, the hair, the schedules, the bags and shoes and supplies– there is always something in me that wants to cry for a minute, scoop them up in my arms and say, “Stay. Don’t go.”

And yet, I know, I KNOW. They have to go. And in reality, I WANT them to go. They have big plans and dreams inside those beautiful little heads and pounding little hearts– And busy schedules already filling up for this year. But there is something so poignant about this first day every single year that pierces my heart. And I’m not sure these feelings ever really go away.

On a morning like today, you look at their bright shining eyes– the excitement in their faces– and you can’t help but reflect. Not just on this past summer. But all the way back. You think for a moment about the day they were born– the exhausting weeks and months that seemed would last forever; Except they didn’t. In fact they flew by at lightning speed. And you think of every time you heard the words, “Enjoy every minute because it goes so fast!” And although you agreed, you sort of rolled your eyes and thought, “Yeah, not today though. Today feels like it will never end!” But somehow every first day of school reminds me that it IS going to end someday. That it doesn’t last. That it DOES go too fast. That I can’t get it back. No matter how happy I am for them, how proud I am, how absolutely I marvel at the potential inside of all three of my kids and the utter excitement I feel at their futures; It still makes my heart panic. This idea, this feeling– that it’s all one step closer to losing them. Not in a literal sense, of course, but in the sense that their childhood is like trying to hold a handful of sand. I just can’t. It keeps going, keeps moving. Grain by grain, day by day.

And so as I sit here this morning, I resolve anew. To savor. To enjoy. To really see them. To really know them. To keep their hearts close to mine. To keep looking at them and who they are turning out to be and absolutely delighting in the wonder of it all. To set down my phone and my work and my plans. To set aside the so many worthless distractions of this world so that when the day comes and my hands are empty, I am still surrounded by all of this sand and it is beautiful.

You Are The Conductor

Don’t you hate it when your thoughts and worries and brain train just feel like they will not settle down and cooperate? When thoughts are stirring in your head so loudly that you’re just not able to function and focus at the level you want? And it actually feels like you just…can’t? Of course you hate it. That’s pretty much a rhetorical question because we all experience this. It’s part of being human and for most of us, it’s just part of our monkey brain– the crazy ways our brain can jump from one topic or idea or anxious thought to the next, a little out of control…

Recently during another conversation with my older and wiser brother Robert, [You know, the one who told me THIS] he used the illustration of an orchestra to explain a powerful concept to me. I love metaphors ~~because I’m a word nerd~~ because they can so clearly illustrate and help us see life through a different lens than we have become accustomed to viewing it through.

Picture yourself as the conductor of a full orchestra. You are standing on stage, with absolute power and authority over every piece of this stunning instrumental collaboration before you. Each section uniquely valuable and beautiful in its own right, with its own sound, tone, timbre, and purpose.

And now imagine that each one of these sections represents an emotion.

You look out and you can see and hear the fullness of range:

Joy. Sorrow. Peace. Happiness. Excitement. Grief. Anger. Anxiety. Depression. Arousal. Complacency. Contentment. Frustration. Ambition. Loneliness. Fear. Exhaustion. Worry. Anticipation. Timidity. Indignation. Love. Hate.

And on some days, the orchestra plays so well and so melodious and so smoothly, you forget to remember that you’re the conductor! These are very good days, indeed.

But on other days, it does not sound like music at all– it sounds like noise. Like racket. Like clamor and pandemonium. One of the sections is out of sync. Out of tune. Playing louder than the others. Not in balance. Upsetting and ruining the quality of sound being produced.

And even on these days, we are still likely to forget to remember that we are the conductor! We have the power and ability to stand from the place of command and give direction to the unruly sections!

Conductor Daniel Barenboim

“Ok, Anxiety. I see you and I hear you. I understand that you have your place. You are a valuable part of this orchestra. And sometimes, I NEED you to play louder– you are my internal warning system that something might be wrong and needs attention.

But today, I need you to soften. I need to turn down your volume. Everything is okay and I NEED you to get back in sync and in line with the rest of the group here. You are being too loud. You are overpowering the rest of the music and it causes chaos. “

{Big Exhale… Thank you, Anxiety}

“Yes, Grief. You are seen and heard. But your volume is getting louder and it’s making it hard for me to think straight and focus on what needs to be done. I love you– and I know you hurt– and you have been a steady, steady companion. But when you’re too loud, I’m not happy. I get stuck. So I want you to stay; you have an important place, but you need to play softly so that I can still hear joy and peace and contentment.”

Conductor Christian Schumann

This is a word picture that kids can grasp easily, as well, and even for more positive emotions like excitement or anticipation. Sometimes those need to be turned down and tempered too, so that we can keep our focus and do what needs to be done, even just for the sake of sleep or peacefulness.

Trouble comes our way if we forget that we’re the conductor and have all of this control. We get so caught up in emotions that are playing too loudly and pounding in our ears that sometimes we allow the orchestra to say, “Screw It” and let sections run rampant, overtaking common sense, impulse control, or our good conscience. Many a bad decision, a bad day, or just.. bad has ensued when the conductor has walked off the stage.

Can it really be this simple? Well maybe not always, but much of the time, I actually think it can. And so close your eyes for a minute and listen to the music your brain has been playing. Listen to the sound your life has been making. Ask yourself if you like it. Ask yourself what it sounds like. And if the answer is no, you’re the conductor. Change the tune.

Conductor Gustavo Dudamel

Are You Just Taking Reservations?

Jerry Seinfeld and his compadres are like invisible dinner guests at nearly every family function we have. My family quotes lines from episodes you barely remember exist. We are that good. It’s always in perfect context and form and it’s just sort of a family thing for us. But recently my older brother [Robert] used a well-placed Seinfeld one-liner on me and it had impact. Robert has been a big fan and supporter of my blog right from the start. And as an older brother, he has looked out for my well-being in a myriad of ways. On occasion, he has hinted that perhaps I should more closely follow some of my own prescriptions.

And so recently, he had this to say:

“You know how to TAKE the reservation-

You just don’t know how to HOLD the reservation”

Oof. Ouch. Because holding the reservation, my friends, is the key to making progress.

Or in simpler terms, DO SOMETHING. FOR THE LOVE. JUST. DO. SOMETHINGGGGGG.

Because listen– there is no shortage of inspiration in my world. You want quotes? I’ve pinned 6,732 of them. Inspirational pictures? Kick-ass words to get you moving? They plaster my walls. I read books. I journal. I’ve illustrated pictures. I’ve filled notebooks. I meditate. I pray. I’ve cried tears of joy and fear and frustration and ambivalence over my future. I have translated them into champagne bubbles of excitement and have put on my lip gloss and psyched myself up 10,000 different ways. But the truth is, all of that is useless if I never actually DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT.

Hard work and hustle and ACTION will trump dreams and talent every day and twice on Sundays, regardless of how flowery and precious and inspiring my hopes and dreams look on paper.

And so I’m doing it. I’m moving forward. I’m taking bigger steps. I’ve started writing the books. I’m brainstorming and creating the business plans. It’s forthcoming and happening and I am excited and terrified and thrilled all at once. Anybody can take the reservation. But finally, I am holding the reservation. Because that’s really the most important part. The holding. The doing. The making it happen.

If your life looks exactly the same as it does today in

1 year

2 years

5 years

How will you feel about it?

Time passes whether or not you do anything.

Ps. I would love love love to hear what this means to you, in your world–

What is it that you want to do?

What small, inspired action can you take TODAY?

Tell us!

The Art of Offense and Apologies

The years before I got divorced, the year I got divorced and the year following my divorce, as you can seriously only imagine, have been rich with offense and apology. Constantly. Continuously. Exhaustingly so. And not just with the obvious principal players, but with lots of people in my tribe. And on the real, possibly more offense than apology.

But isn’t this about how it goes for everyone? Relationships. Gah. Seriously. I love ’em and hate ’em all at the same time. There are a few people in my life that frustrate the hell out of me and I want to throw them off a cliff and then run to the bottom to catch them. Because I love them. But for whatever reason, we can’t seem to get an easy vibe going. Which means miscommunication. Misunderstood feelings. Unmet expectations. And Mexican stand-offs. (Sorry to the Mexicans. Sorry. It’s just an expression, yes?)

And so the offense/apology circle is a pitted and well-traveled path. But there are bits and pieces to it that get sort of muddy at times. And so this is what I’d like to offer:

The person who has done the offending

REGARDLESS OF INTENTION

Does not get to judge whether or not the offended person should be offended

You should probably reread that. It might take a second or third look

{Feel free to sub out the word “offended” for whatever flies your kite: insulted, hurt, degraded, humiliated. We run an equal opportunity shit show here}

And before anyone gets crazy, I’m strictly referring to one-on-one personal relationships here; Not to social media/political correctness/Merry Christmas and rainbow-flag-waving type of “offenses”. Those are a totally different type of headache. Like a migraine.

The thing is this– If I’ve hurt you, whether or not I intended to, if I value our relationship and am seeking to live at peace with others as much as possible, then I need to apologize. Period. You get to feel what you feel and I don’t get to decide if it’s valid or not. Because truthfully, the thickness of our skin is as varied as the colors of it. Totally. Completely. Different.

And how I see it

Is not necessarily how it is

It’s only how I see it

We, each one of us, are masterful lawyers at defending our own feelings and intentions, but incredibly tough judges when it comes to measuring someone else’s.

Saying you’re sorry doesn’t have to mean you were wrong; Saying you’re sorry means that you want to take tender care of another person’s heart and feelings. Being an attentive, mindful caretaker is an important part of growing healthy, soulful, connected relationships.

And so if we can learn to live with this as a core value– to cause as little harm to others as possible– and apologize quickly and easily if and when we do cause hurt or harm, no matter how right we think we are, it will change the atmosphere we live in. And changing the atmosphere changes the world. And at the end of the day, I want to be a world-changer more than I want to be right. Do it with me?

Monday is for Lovers

Just preachin’ to myself today…Looking for a magic Monday…<3

Truly Julie

Ahhh, my beautiful Monday. You, my love, are a fresh, new day to begin again. You are a totally smooth and sexy blank slate. You are a gorgeous, lithe white sheet of paper. I GET to have you and I cannot wait. I’m choosing you on purpose. I’m choosing you with passion. I’m choosing you intentionally. And I’m going to breathe you in and love you inside out. Those nights I lie awake dreading your return? So done and over that. Look at me, first-born day of the week- look right into my sparkling green eyes: I love you. I’m consciously going to choose happiness over suffering today so that I can luxuriate in every.delicious.part.of.you. How could I not want you and all that you’re offering? So come hither, Monday. If how you spend your days is how you spend your life– then today– whatever it is, I’m going to…

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Just a Little Farther…

When Mark and I first got married, he was in the Army and we were stationed on Fort Riley, Kansas. Mark was in great shape and totally fit from daily PT and all of the other physical rigors that accompany military life. I, however, was not. But I had run track in high school and wanted to start with running as a means to get back in shape. Mark wanted to run with me and I immediately disliked this idea. I knew running would be hard, and as a competitive person, I was not ready to suck in front of him. Sucking by myself would be easier to take. But he insisted it would be more fun to do it together. Begrudgingly, I agreed, and just as I had imagined, not long into our first run, I was ready to hit the wall.

{That competitive spirit is how I ended up with a tattoo. Mark thought I wasn’t tough enough to get one. Oh? Really? Is that so? Watch me. Um. So yeah. I don’t recommend that as a consistent way to make life decisions. But at 24, it felt totally legit}

So there we were, running along and Mark chatting away, acting as if it were no big deal (JERK!) while I am out of breath and ready to stop and walk. I’m sure I was ticked off ~~and~~ ~~possibly being a poor sport.~~ I was sucking in front of him! UGH! But just as I was starting to say I couldn’t go any farther, he looked over at my struggling self and said, “See that stop sign up ahead? You can make it to there.” I’m positive I rolled my eyes and inwardly whined that I was sure I couldn’t…But, indeed, I did make it to the stop sign. After all, it was only 100 yards away. Okay. Fine.

But Mark had a method now. As we neared the stop sign and I was mentally preparing to collapse and take a break, he chimed in again. “See that fire hydrant up ahead? You can go just a little farther and make it to there.” This guy! What the heck! See? This is why I wanted to run by myself! Maybe it was my competitive nature, pride, or just aggravation, but I kept going. I DID make it to the fire hydrant. And then some. And as you might imagine, Mark continued to coach me this way through the rest of the run. And lo and behold, I made it to the end.

Only a few short years after that day, I am sitting in the dark. Staring at the clock. I have lost Mark. He is gone forever and not coming back. I am physically aching to be where he is. The grief is dark and thick and threatens to consume me. I am fully convinced I cannot go any further. And it is then that I faintly remember his coaching, whispering to me now in the night. I hear myself say out loud to the empty room, “It is 11:31. I can make it to 11:32. It is 11:32. I can make it to 11:33…”

I don’t know how long I sat there counting minutes, but I made it through that night and went on to use that coaching many, many nights after that. In fact, 20 years later, I still use it. And I have taught my kids to use it, too. Because you know what? It works. The truth is, you can pretty much always make it through another minute. And then another one. And another one. And the minutes turn into hours, and then into days and weeks and months. And before you know it, you are absolutely doing that which you swore you could not do.

I don’t know what it is you’re facing today that feels too hard. Maybe it’s learning to run, or maybe it’s grief or maybe it’s a hard marriage or parenting or a job you hate– or maybe– maybe it’s just life. Because life is freakin’ hard. Even when it’s good, it’s hard. But I’m pretty sure you can get through today. Take a deep breath and go just a little farther. You can do this.

{And Mark. I hope you are smiling.

And proud.

And…we will keep going…just a little farther… until we see you again someday}

The Always Interesting Job of Getting a Job

So my part-time days are just about over and I’m looking for a full-time job. I’ve been looking for a job for a few months now. And by looking for a job, I mostly mean sitting at the computer with a cup of coffee, getting up 5 times to get something else to eat (since my daily lunch salad rarely qualifies as “satisfying”), all the whilst wishing I had a degree other than a Bachelor’s in Business Administration. Most days I’m equal parts amused and discouraged as I scroll endlessly through the postings and read the job descriptions.

NO SKILLS? NO EXPERIENCE? NO PROBLEM!
(Too much pride and self-respect to click this link)

click HERE for the path to suxess!
(So tempting– if it weren’t for that pesky spelling of “success”–which totally leads me to believe this path leads to no gud and the opposite of success)

Hunting for Averaage People
(Hunt for a new ad copy writer who can spell)

ATTENTION ANYONE!
(For the love of Henry. Really?)

And my personal favorite:

NOW CASTING FOR “MY PET GAVE ME ___________”
I’m interested in this one, for sure. And I sort of feel qualified, since I have a pet. Except I seriously cannot figure out exactly what type of answer they’re looking for– Fleas? Inappropriate affection? Herpes? Carpet stains? Insomnia?

I have been in forests less shady than you people.

Or how about the intermingling of these ridiculous listings with ultra-professional listings?

Cardiologist wanted for busy clinic

Orthodontist needed for established practice

Immediate Opening for Optometrist

Do doctors really use Craigslist when they’re looking for new opportunities? I mean, I barely use Craigslist. It just feels sketchy to me. *Note to self: ask all of my doctors how they got their jobs.

The ones that disappoint me the most are the ones that sound super interesting and that I *almost* feel qualified for…but not quite:

Private Investigator
I’ve read and watched just about every series out there. This doesn’t seem that hard. Risky maybe, but not that hard. Plus I’m a runner. I think that would help.

Anatomy and Physiology Video Tutorial Instructor
I feel like I could be good at this one. Except for the Business Degree thingy.

Seeking Performers, Know-it-Alls, and other Oddballs to Host Trivia Night
I could potentially be any one of these things. This one has legs. But the Oddball part is a little off-putting.

If I were a Class “A” Truck Driver, an experienced Collections Agent, a General Laborer or a “Dancer”, I would have my pick– it’s that damn college degree that keeps getting in my way. And having to pay the mortgage. And feed people.

So for today, I’m eating like it’s my job. Pinning like it’s my job. Writing like it’s my job. And only dreaming of a paycheck. But if you know of anyone who’s looking for a pedigreed Writer/Editor/Researcher/Speaker/~~Jack-of-All-Trades, Master of~~ …I’m your girl.

Thank you for your time and consideration. I look forward to speaking with you about the various ways I believe I can add value to your organization through this dynamic opportunity.

{Wanna know more? Check out my profile on LinkedIn}