What is your closest relationship? You might say your spouse or partner. You might also say your friend from school or maybe even your child. But, if we’re honest– we might actually admit that our REAL ‘can’t live without’ person, our most important relationship is with… our hairstylist.
Recently my dear husband, affectionately known on social media as EW, mentioned meeting a gentleman he described as “elderly” with whom he discussed various boating issues. As he related the conversation, clues about this “elderly” man’s age emerged.
When we returned to the States in 2016, I was surprised to be overwhelmed by numerous technical issues. After all, we’d had a semi-smart phone that took SIM cards from various countries, an iPad, and a 2014 Dell Laptop—how out of date could I be? Yeah. Let me count the ways: real smartphones, the high cost of data plans, people who text all the flipping time, and every site seemed to Spy on us. I was surprised when things I’d casually viewed on a shopping site popped up all over Facebook, and stunned when shopping sites required that I provide my email before browsing their online store. We don’t give brick and mortar stores our ID when we browse and I suggest we don’t frequent overly inquisitive online sites, either—because the spy online may not love you. (Zulilly wants my email in order to even look at their merchandise. Not going to happen.
This is exactly what Lynnelle and I have been talking about! Seriously, I had big plans for ending 2017 and for starting 2018. Big plans that were derailed by weather, icky colds, poor planning, and lack of execution. This does not make 2018 a failure already. Like me, 2018 is a work in progress.
Traditional New Year’s resolutions can create huge expectations. Our future doesn’t care when we start to “get things right”—January 1, March 31, October 18 (or 1979, 1985, 2010) —none of it matters. What matters is that we flippin’ do it.
(Lynnelle butting in here… Barb is so polite. If you knew what she is living through as she types this (living in the cabin of a sailboat with EW -normally a lovely thing – in the coldest weather St. Augustine has seen since Ponce de Leon landed on the shores – in wind gusts up to 50 mph – and no furnace – only a sailboat-type heater for the coolish St. Thomas kind-of-nights… Her laptop wouldn’t power up because it was too cold… aka: almost freezing… aka: cold as shit, 40 degrees INSIDE their galley cold… and she has a cold – and EW is just getting over his BAD cold… basically – they’re in hell and it’s freezing over…) you’d be AMAZED she’s not using the real “f” word all over this post. Flipping’ just doesn’t have the same UMPH! as fuck. When you read through this piece, I encourage you to read “fucking” when you see “flippin'”. It is soooo much more appropriate given the circumstances. Sorry Barb.)
Barb Here… We need to write a post about the F-Bomb. I say it (much too frequently) but still don’t use it on social media. Lynnelle was surprised that I chose this meme. Oh, hell, Lynnelle was delighted I chose this meme. And now back to our regularly scheduled post…
What matters is that we flippin’ DO the things we believe will help us to be happier, healthier, and more fulfilled. What matters is that we recognize those things, define what we need to change to make them happen, and begin the work required. Step by step. Every day. Creating new habits for the rest of our lives.
That’s it. Some folks will choose to focus on one item at a time; others will pick and choose from a list and tackle a few, and others will work on everything all at once. (Bless their hearts). I’ve tried it all. This year, I’m going to work on a number of different things, but some will take a higher priority. First and foremost, I’m going to be kind to me. Sometimes, I will be kind by letting myself off the hook and sometimes I will be kind by kicking myself in the arse—the trick is to learn when to do one and when to do the other. I’ve often beat myself up for things that weren’t mine to own or (more often) didn’t matter, and let myself off the hook for things that matter a great deal. It’s time to woman up.
What can I do right this minute that will make today a better day than yesterday and that will help me live a fulfilled life? What do I need to let go? What habit do I need to change? What truth do I need to accept?
What can I do this day that will help me move forward in the areas that are truly important for me? In my case, health and financial well-being? For me, everything else will be the raspberry in the salad. (Not gravy on the mashed potatoes or the cherry on top of a sundae—for obvious reasons.)
It’s OK to accept that I may not have started 2018 exactly as I would have wished. But it’s not OK to allow any temporary setback/icky cold/bad weather/attitude challenge/fear of failure/or lack of planning to derail where I want to be in 2019. That meme may have touched a nerve today. But it will mean nothing to me 365 days from now.
I have a vision of the woman I can be, and I deserve to be her. She is freakin’ awesome! She is worth it.
You are, too.
Every once in a while, it’s important to slow down and take stock. If you’re on a long road-trip, periodically you stop for gas and check the clock, the map and confirm you’re still on the right route and timeline (or not. Yikes.) I just ended a full week of cooking and company. Every couple of days I had to stop and look in fridge, look at the calendar and the next meal plan and make sure I was on track with everything that needed to be purchased, sliced, diced, or defrosted.
The ending/beginning of the year is a natural “slow down and take stock” time.
I’m soloing today while Lynnelle is on her road trip.
Lynnelle never fails to impress me and this road trip plan is an excellent example. She, her sweetie, and the Littlest are traveling just over 1000 miles from Elgin, Texas to St. Augustine, Florida and taking five days to get here. She has planned adventure or family stops at every location along the way. I expect she will arrive refreshed and full of stories about NASA, swamps, and music. Her secret? She plans to drive for a maximum of only three and a half hours each day. I had suggested a detour from Tallahassee to St. Pete, she looked up the distance and declared, “No! That’s too far.” (It was four and a half hours, though, in fairness, a lot farther from there to St. Augustine.)