Sometimes Safe Isn't Safe At All

Over the past couple of weeks, I've been mulling over an important decision in my life. Okay, mulling may not be the right word. It's been more like obsessing. I've affirmed aloud and in writing that I would let it go- let time and meditation and maybe even a little prayer do the job. But the truth, the real truth, is I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since it surfaced as a decision.

Today, in a Sunday morning moment of clarity, I think I have concluded what I should do. Notice of course, the "I think" at the start of my last sentence, still denoting a noncommittal decision. It's time to make a move that feels a little unsafe. Why? Because the unsafe thing to do is stay safe all the time. Stay with me for a minute...

Safe on the outside risks the safety of your soul, your passion, your ability to seek more. It's easier to stay where you are all the time. Your town, your home, your job, your relationships- even the unhealthy ones, because they are what you know. The what-if's scare the hell out of people. Unknown territory, unknown outcomes make people nervous. Makes sense, it's human nature. But I realized today, I think I'm more fearful of the always wondering what could have been kind of what-if than the what if I make a bad decision what if.

Nothing in life is so permanent that we can't rebound or change again if we think the decision was wrong. Nothing can be that catastrophic. We owe it to ourselves to stretch, to reach, to challenge ourselves to new experiences. Playing it safe, for me, isn't safe at all.

If only I had 5 more minutes...

You've done this enough times to know that you're interviewing them as much as they are you, I thought to myself.

"Write down the questions you have for them, be prepared. Ask them what you need to know," all of the wonderful advice-givers in my life said. And I did. I made some little notes. I brought a notepad into the interview with me.

And when they said, "Do you have any questions for us?" I couldn't come up with much. I asked one nagging question about whether I would have to give up a side gig if I took the position. But most of the other questions I had got answered throughout the process. So I was done.

You see, the interview process is actually a bit one-sided. As the individual you can prepare, you can write things down, you can expect an opportunity to ask questions. But the people on the other side of the table already know what they need to know from you. Most of the time, you don't realize what you need to know from them, until you've gotten home and processed what happened for a couple of days.

The last question posed to me was, "Why should I hire you for this position?" I really didn't have a difficult time answering that. I'm a pretty good impromptu speaker. And I'm confident about what I bring to the table. But what I realized after two days of thinking about it and my opportunity to ask having passed is, I know the question I want to ask them now.

"Why should I take this job?"

If only I had five more minutes.

Flood Gate

Last night while taking my before-bed nasal spray, I slipped off the applicator pump with the tip of the bottle in my nostril. Not good. It hurt like a bitch, poked into the central cartilage in my nose. Naturally, I started to cry. I put a tissue to my nose and sopped up the tears, the drool, and what turned out to be only a slight and faint nose bleed. I drew in a deep breath, and then I bawled my eyes out, not because I was badly hurt. It seems that minor poke into my nose released something. Don't get me wrong, it hurt. But when I continued to cry, even harder, my husband was scared I was wounded more seriously.

Nope, apparently the build up of everything in my life right now just became too overwhelming in that moment in time. I went from being wound up and worried about getting a good night sleep before a big day I have today (more on that later), to weeping, draining myself, and falling asleep pretty quickly. I'm grateful I got a good night's sleep and I can get my day started. I'll be glad when it's over.

So Much More...

If you've read any of my blog or met me in person, you know I am part of a writing circle. We call ourselves that. A writing circle. We write and we talk about writing. Once a year we hold a writing retreat and this year all but one of us attended the Sanibel Island Writers Conference together. We have a shared blog, and we have individual blogs. We write.

But we are so. much. more.

Our writing circle is as much a circle of trust and friendship as it is a writing circle, and that's probably what makes it such a strong writing circle too. Instead of attention-seeking cryptic posts on Facebook to express frustration, anger, disapproval, fear, or embarrassment, we spill our guts to each other, often in writing.

We dine. We talk. We Write. We trust.

I am so blessed to have these women in my life. Often they are the only ones I can share these emotions with when they are fresh and real. A strong and loving marriage and a supportive and loving family are wonderful. But sometimes the ones you really need in the moment are your sisters. This week I've been holding some stuff in. There are some things that I can't speak of publicly for good reason. All in time, but in the meantime I have my writing circle of trust and friendship. How do you like that name for these superwomen? I love it.

We are blessed.

Not all pictured here but the closest I could get.

Neverendingness

Sadness washes over me like the tide pulls away from the shore
my time at the coast is always too short
sounds of seagulls and waves will turn
to cars and commotion
what is it about the sea
its vastness, it's blending shades
of blue and green
looking out I see neverendingness
quiet and calm
where the ocean meets the sky

Beachside Morning

To capture the sound of  beachside morning
is it the gently rolling tide, the occasional wave
crashing over a small jutting point of the shoreline
or is it the wind swirling around the twentieth sorry balcony
a plane flying overhead, travelers headed home from their holiday visit
I sit here enjoying the morning breeze and the daybreak sun
two days after an un-Thanksgiving
thankful for this time in solitude

Trip Down Holiday Memory Lane

Thanksgiving is this weekend, which means the holidays are just around the corner. Yes, I say holidays because my family is Jewish and celebrates Chanukah and my husband's family celebrates Christmas. That means there are multiple holidays with an "s" celebrated in our neck of the woods. This year the first night of Chanukah is actually Christmas Eve, so it's all one big bang for our buck!

Speaking of bucks, my husband and I started shopping this past weekend. The Amazon boxes are already showing up at the door. We have two nieces and three nephews under the age of 10. As we were looking for just the right toys and games, I started thinking about the things my sister and I got most excited about during the Chanukahs of days past. When we were in elementary school, my parents did the one present for each night, gradually building to something a little bigger at the end. Eventually, the things we wanted or were interested in were higher cost items, and we got one or two bigger things rather than eight crazy nights!

Here are some of the most memorable, not in any order of chronology or preference...

Freazy Feakies

It was hard to find images of the original Freezy Freakies. We lived in New York until I was 14, and these gloves came out one winter in the 80's. I honestly don't remember which ones we had. I'm not sure if these are original or the new "throw back" versions that are now available for 80's nostalgia nuts. These gloves were all the rage one year, classic gimmick. They had a plastic coating, and the design changed colors in the cold. Seems kind of meh now, with all of the crazy technology and innovation we have. But we just had to have them. Funny thing about them is they weren't particularly comfortable. They provided little flexibility and gripping in them was tough. They were good for two things only: getting a kick out of having them and gathering snow for building forts or snowmen. Either way, we thought we were pretty cool!

Superstar Barbie Fashion Face

 

I was never into Barbies, but holy moly! I remember wanting this so badly. You could style barbie's plastic thread hair and it came with make-up so you could put it on her face. It's crazy to me, of all the things I wanted as a kid, this was the most "girly." My sister and I were tomboys, and she had Barbies, but not me. This though, man I wanted it! I never would have remembered that it was called a Fashion Face. I looked it up as Barbie Head, and there it was. My sister and I each got one that year.

Cabbage Patch Dolls

Before there were Ferbies or Tickle-Me-Elmo, there was the Cabbage Patch Doll. This was the toy of the decade of decadence, the me generation. Parents went absolutely insane waiting in lines, trampling each other, and telling off sales clerks to get their children Cabbage Patch Dolls. Every kid wanted them, and I was no different. Man was I excited when i opened my Chanukah present that year. Everyone wanted one, but not everyone got one. I'm not sure what my parents did to get one, but I never saw them in one of these crazy news stories:

What I do remember is bringing mine to school so I would have it when I went to my friend's house after school. I put it in my locker, and it got stolen. I don't know if I was more upset about losing the doll or knowing what my parents were going to do to me when they found out it was stollen. It took a long while, but I eventually got a new one. Too bad I didn't keep it all these years, I hear they're worth money to collectors. It's a good thing I'm a better real parent than a doll parent!

Other things I remember wanting: an Easy Bake Oven, a Sony Walkman (at the time, Sony was the only one who made one), an Islanders hockey jersey, leg warmers, a mini skirt, and Reebok high tops- the ones with the colored stripe down the middle of the shoe laces that matched the color on the bottom of the soles, a double wrap spiked belt, and this Benetton Rugby Jersey

My son is turning 18 a week from today; shopping has never been easier. Electronics and cash. Done.