No?  How about taking some of it off?  We’ll get to why a little later, first I want to talk about health.  Our health.  Women’s health.  You, me, your sister, your mom, your aunt, your best friend…and maybe someday, your daughter.

As we get older and start to own our health as adults, there are a few spectres that loom more than others. Heart attack, stroke, Alzheimer’s, and cancer, and most notably for women, breast cancer.

Why does breast cancer bring out our fear, our outrage, our anger so much more than other diseases? It’s not as though we can’t hear the warnings of heart disease in women, or that we don’t consider the threat of other types of cancer. (You may remember the last time I wrote about breast cancer…)

I think because a diagnosis of any disease, especially one as destructive as cancer, brings with it a loss of control that we so desperately want over our own lives. Suddenly what we do, how we do it and our very futures are threatened.  Breast cancer goes even further, threatening our physical and traditional ideas of feminine identity. We may recognize our facial features, our hair, the curve and sway of our hips as part of our female appeal, but there is no arguing that our breasts are an important symbol of femininity. Whether we are delicately or generously endowed, they’re ours and we are often paralyzed at the thought of losing them.

There are ways, however, to bring some of that control back into our lives if we make decisions to be proactive about our health before a crisis happens. This may mean adopting a healthy lifestyle and doing things we know are good for our bodies – eating good foods, staying active and avoiding habits that might raise our risk level. It also means taking action to monitor changes in our bodies; doing self-exams, seeing our doctors for annual checkups, and taking advantage of tests like mammograms as they become appropriate. Your doctor can recommend when you should have your first mammogram, as it relates to your risk factors: health, family history, breast density and more.

If there were a way to go one step further to monitor your breast health, a way that is actually more effective for those women whose breasts are considered “dense”, would you do it?  What if there were a screening tool that had a better chance of catching tumours in dense tissue, allowing earlier detection?  I hadn’t heard of a breast ultrasound until I saw this amazing video of a bold, brave woman I know trying it out for herself. Yes, on video. Yes, the whole thing. You may know her as the Cocktail Deeva, creator of Boobfest, promoter of “feel your boobies” t-shirts, and living out loud expert. Well, watch for yourself as she faces her worries about her own breast health, shares her story, and takes you along for an ultrasound, partnering with VIP Breast Imaging to deliver vital information into the hands of women.  Watch it, learn from it, share it – but maybe do that watching at home instead of work, and without the kiddies around….while gracefully filmed, the girls definitely got some camera time.

I’m amazed at her heart, and her willingness to face her fears and brave any awkwardness so that she can share her experience with us.  After watching, I feel this would be time and money well spent for those with a higher risk of breast cancer or breast tissue too dense for a mammogram to prove completely effective.  Does it cost money?  Yes, it does, as it is currently offered outside the public health care system. But the amount is less than I spend on coffee in a year (at home, or out, not even combined).  It’s less money than you spend colouring your hair if you do it in a salon, the equivalent of a couple of fancy dinners or few celebratory evenings spent at your favourite pub.  It’s one less shirt or other clothing item picked up while shopping each month.

It’s not a decision anyone can make for you, but I think we are always better off when we have more options for information, for better care, and to feel like we are in charge of our own health.  It is good for our bodies, hearts and minds to own our destinies as much as is possible.  I can’t tell you if I will ever be diagnosed with breast cancer, but I’d love to tell you I had done what I could for prevention, and early detection if the diagnosis came.

Here are some details you might want to note:

~ 40% of women have what are called “dense breasts”

~  the breast ultrasound is called an Automated Breast Ultrasound – ABUS

~ VIP Breast Imaging is the only company in Canada that provides this service

~ according to their website, ABUS is safe, radiation-free, non-invasive and painless

~ no doctor referral is necessary

~ there is a cost associated with ABUS, but I was pleased to hear there is a program in place to help underprivileged women

For more information about VIP Breast Imaging, their mission, their team and to decide if ABUS might be right for you, contact:

VIP Breast Imaging Toronto

525 University Ave
Toronto, Ontario
M5G 2L3

Phone:             647-350-2229

toronto@vipbreastimaging.com

Disclosure:  I was asked to share this video on behalf of Cocktail Deeva, and VIP Breast Imaging in Toronto, and as a courtesy, was invited to visit VIP Breast Imaging myself.  As always, you can be assured that impressions and opinions are my own.

For enthusiasm in new beginnings, I am grateful.

For deep personal connections, I am thankful.

For trust that was placed in me, I am better.

For wisdom shared with me, I am smarter.

For faith placed in me to be great when I dared for good, I am braver.

Much gratitude to EverythingMom

 for the truth, work, hopes shared over these last two years.

~~~~~

May this year bring good things to us all, with opportunity to support one another in new ways.

I’m looking forward to what may come next.

Sugar,

Oh, honey honey

You are my candy girl

And you got me wanting you

~ Sugar, Sugar by The Archies

If you’ve ever had a little look around this blog, you may have noticed the long running tagline at the top that says “Sweet cravings and salty language”.  If ever I were to be accused of having vices, those two would probably top the list.  (Any of you waving your hands to mention my impatience and my tendency to stay up past midnight for no good reason can just zip it.)

Well, anyway, it’s no secret that I love me some sugar.  I stir it into my coffee, my tea and sprinkle it on my toast.  I like to indulge in public, and sneak it when no one is looking.  I once had a friend out me at a dinner party, to a room full of people I was meeting for the first time, that I like to sneak chocolate with my first cup of coffee, yes at 6 a.m.  That’s how you get a name for yourself, right there.  I also am known around certain circles (hello, Twitter!) as having a deep love of all things chocolate, especially Toffifee.  I am also a great enabler.

I named my blog for my love of coffee and chocolate, and one of my first published pieces was entitled “Chocolafession”.

Sugar and I are hot and heavy.

However.  There comes a time in every sugar lover’s life when they wake up and realize they aren’t 25 anymore, and that perhaps fueling themselves purely on sweet things is not just silly, it’s actually pretty foolish.  I can’t say I mind being known for my sweet tooth and chocolate cravings, but I admit, it makes me crazy that I have such a hard time saying no.  If it’s in the house, I want it.  My mood is instantly improved by it.  (And to be honest, writing this is making me want it badly enough my teeth hurt.)

And I just gave in.

See?  That’s what makes me so annoyed.  Don’t get me wrong, I will always love being the girl who loves her sugar, but I want to enjoy it on my terms.  Giving control of my brain over to something that doesn’t even have one doesn’t sit right with me.  And knowing that it’s a habit that must be affecting my energy, and worse, my health irritates me even more.  I’d rather enjoy my sweets when I really want something, and am taking the time to savour it than just using sugar and chocolate as easy fuel when I’m busy.

I’ve been invited to take part in something special that is starting up right away, and I would love some company if any of you have been looking for a way to battle this particular vice.  I’m going to dive in with the ladies from Domestic Diva and join their 28 Day Sugar Detox.  There are a few reasons why I think this will be a good way to move forward – first, I hate deprivation and just quitting cold turkey doesn’t work for me and second, I know enough about one of the founders of Domestic Diva to know that she’s smart and down to earth about this stuff.  And I know how busy she is, and that she has two kids similar in age to my own!  So I know she understands how busy some of us are, and how hard it is to juggle something new in.  She’s living it!  But she’s also been where I am and has made good changes to her own life with the resources they’ll be sharing.  I love the idea of learning why the hell I’m craving sugar sometimes all the time, and how to get to a point that I feel nourished and satisfied enough that I don’t feel the sugar crazies the way I do now.

You can check out all the details on their website, along with many more posts and articles they have been creating.  We’re starting Monday, Jan 23rd, and going for four weeks of learning, trying out suggestions, sharing our experiences with others and finally making the move to get sugar off our “vice” list.

Sweet wishes to you if you decide to come join in!

Disclosure:  I’ve been invited to join the 28 Day Sugar Detox compliments of the ladies of Domestic Diva.  However, I volunteered to share my story beforehand, and to share my thoughts after all is said and done because I really believe they have wisdom worth sharing.  All opinions are my own.

 Photo credit:  Jade Gordon

January.  A new year.

How did we get here so quickly?  Forgive me, but I’d like to know where November and December went.  I feel like I got ready for back to school, zipped to a conference, then fell into birthdays and holidays and what can be best described as static.  Like when a radio isn’t quite tuned in correctly and while you know the station you’re trying to find is in there somewhere, you can’t get through all the chatter to find it.

“There are years that ask questions and years that answer.”
― Zora Neale Hurston, Their Eyes Were Watching God

For me, 2011 was definitely a year that asked questions.  If it wasn’t nailed down or attached to my body by skin and bone, I wondered at it.  Never have I felt so fulfilled, yet restless at the same time.  No complaining here, my life is too full of wonder, of blessings, to ever dare raise a complaint, but what a mental unwinding.  Questioning areas of my life is something I do all the time – should I change things, add things, let go of things?  Should I move on, stay?  Should we change where we live, change neighbourhoods, homes, cities?

I questioned until my head spun and my teeth nearly rattled.

And then the end of the year came along, and I find myself taking a deep breath.  I am hoping that 2012 is a year that answers.  I’ve grown weary of the questions, the restlessness.  I long to find the life I know that is waiting for me and settle into it the way we do into a very large, soft chair.  And that’s the really funny thing about people like me, and maybe you too – I’m so convinced a better life is out there waiting, that I’m willing to sometimes be halfway miserable today so I can imagine it, aim for it.

However.  There comes a time in one woman’s life where it all gets a little tiring.  That house, this house?  That city, this city?  Who cares?  Deep down, I do, of course, but sometimes you have to worry about things like soaking up your children while they are still small.  Making tea in the afternoon instead of coffee, because why are we rushing anyway?  Breathing through discussions that would normally strain nerves.

Comfort and joy is a phrase we hear often through the holidays; a line from a song, a sentiment that scrolls across a card.  I’m going to take it from that song, that card and tuck it away to bring out when I need to find some direction, when I need reminding that I can find it right here, in words, in books, in my children’s endless wonder.

This year, wherever I am, whatever I do, I know what I really am looking for are comfort and joy.  Comfort in a life that suits me, rests my weary head, cheers my soul.  Joy in the little bits of the day that knock me over when I slow down enough to see them.  Stop setting ideas aside and write it all out – the silliness, the wonder, the frustration, the laughter, the joy, the weariness.  When my head gets too busy, I stop letting go when I write.  I can write anything I need to, but this little corner, my corner, goes quiet.

So I’m slowing down.  I have so many things to write, and write I will.

So this is my wish for us all:

May the new year bring us answers to our questions, comfort to our hearts and joy to our spirits.

Did last year ask or answer questions for you?  What do you wish for in the new year?

Photo credit:  Mario Gonzaga via sxc.hu

Just wanted to take a moment to thank any of you who came to read me over at the Electrolux Canada blog these past couple of weeks. I’ll be writing a weekly blog post for them and am really looking forward to sharing all I have planned!  Today is Sunday, which means a new post is probably going up tomorrow…ooh, can’t wait!  It’s a good one too.

They were kind enough to officially introduce me here, and then I started off with my first post, called “The Sweet Life“.  I confessed to plenty of shortcomings, shared a bit of what I love and what I think about this whole business of waking up and realizing that a whole household is revolving around me.  (Well, not just me…but you know what I mean.)

I love being able to create the life we want, and make it fit our dreams, our goals.  But I know we’ve met damn near every hurdle along the way, and if we haven’t hit it yet, I’m sure it’s coming.

So here’s what I think about the whole “be more amazing” thing.  I think it’s an awesome way to acknowledge that what we do already is impressive.  All the planning, the effort, the energy – it’s daunting and enormous and I love being part of something that says “it’s already fantastic”.

Looking for ways to do more, make it easier, enjoy more – all right up my alley.

So I hope you’ll continue to read and enjoy what I’m sharing over on the Electrolux Canada blog!  I promise to try to help you do more, make it easier and enjoy more (and I’ll share where I’m succeeding and slipping up along the way!)

Raise a glass, or a coffee cup, whatever you have with me, won’t you?

Cheers to being even more amazing.

Because I love the idea that we already are, where we are today.

Don’t you?

Disclosure:  this post was written by me, without any prompting from Electrolux Canada.  This one is just for fun.  

Photo credit:  stock.xchg

I’ve been looking through pictures from my son’s birthday.

He turned seven recently, and I’m still so amazed by him.  I know we all go through that initial swoon period where we are floored by our ability to create these small people.  I’m sure I’m supposed to be quite over it by now, and trust me, there are moments when I am so over it.

But those are the moments when I forget all the good, all the special things that I would never stop to notice without him.  With him by my side, I pay attention to details, I wonder at the world and I laugh more at silly things.

I could write a list of a hundred things that I love about him.  When I write about him, you can tell what he means to me.

He’s smart and sweet, funny and honest.  He’s sensitive and stormy, loyal and curious.  He’s handsome, and can already knock me down with giant hugs.

That’s just ten things and I’m sure you’re already rolling your eyes. So what I will tell you today is one of my favourite things about him.

Out of the blue it will come, sometimes mid-conversation, sometimes out of the silence.

And it’s so sweet, so often, that we sometimes forget how enormous it really is.  We are raising him with love, and we tell him we love him, but there is something beautiful happening right before our eyes.

He loves, on his own terms.

He says “I love you” all the time, and he says it first.

And not just once in a while, it’s all day long. “I love you more, no backs.” “Je t’aime.” “Love you.”

Anything I could write about how it makes me feel to hear it would fall short.  We love to know our kids can love like that, don’t we?  Their love is sweet and pure.

But what I love best, is how willing he is to say it first.  And I wish upon him a future where he doesn’t lose that confidence, that security in the people he loves.

I want him, as a teenager, to be able to say it first.  I hope for him, as an adult, to tell the people around him what they mean to him with ease.

I want him to love with his heart wide open.

Imagine, if we all did.

Photo credit:  stock.xchg

It is the time of year when I look at my children and marvel.

There will be birthdays, two.  There will be cakes, two.  There will quite possibly be pangs of the heart, many.

For my babies will turn seven and three this fall, and though two small lives are more than I ever thought I would create, it twists a bit in my stomach to know that they are both moving through these young months and years so quickly.

Time is a terrible, wonderful thing.  I am so addicted to their changes, to seeing newness light in their eyes, to their endlessly clever ways.  Yet, I miss the sweetness of the babies they once were.  My arms were full of sweet cheeks, soft blankets and pink toes many moons ago; now strong, brave, noisy children have taken their place.

Their voices mingle and mash, their energy swirls through the house.  Most days they take me along with them – for isn’t it easier to let the wave take you than fight the current once you have fallen in?

We spend years looking inward before we become parents, then as soon as we lay eyes on that newborn face it’s as though we suddenly see so clearly how much of our lives we will give so freely.

Looking down at one’s own path, looking inward, looking behind are pale stand-ins for looking forward, standing first before, then behind a child of your own.  Their horizons reach further than your own and you realize the ocean you are sailing suddenly has no shore.  You become them, they become their own and so on and so forth and if you are lucky, so it continues.

These wee creatures are already eyeing their own ships – who knew it would come so soon?  But I can see the twinkle and the future in their eyes.

An arm around one, the other snuggled on my lap.

We rock in calm seas, and I am overwhelmed at my good fortune.

Photo credit:  stock.xchg

Inspiration struck Toronto this past weekend, and I was lucky enough to be right in the middle of some of the smartest, most committed women in online media.

I attended Blissdom Canada ‘11 at the Hilton Toronto, and like last year, the anticipation ran high.  How could a meeting of this much heart and wisdom ever disappoint?

Sure enough, I was amazed by the creativity and passion by the writers, publishers, and public relations professionals who surrounded me.  I was inspired by women (and a few men!) smart enough to have gone ahead, and generous to reach back to share whatever they could to those who may come behind.

Let us hope that we never forget the importance of supporting one another in this space we share.  Never before have I enjoyed work in a landscape so overlapping in potential competition – yet, the leaders rising to the top are the ones most often seen reaching out, lifting others, and generally sharing what they can to ensure the rising of the collective success.

From panels that made us roar with laughter, to those that brought swift tears, to those who sparked inspiration on how to run our businesses better – we were treated to a generous buffet of knowledge.  Between each session, we shared meals, drinks, laughter, hugs, and discussed our work, our dreams, our plans.  I couldn’t begin to list the number of people who offered inspiration; be it great or small, each snippet will be tucked away and woven into what will come next.

We had a chance to be at our best, while simultaneously growing into more.  I worried – what might explode first, my heart or my head?

But this is when we are at our best, isn’t it?  For all the hours we spend at our computers, thankful am I for the chance to come out and listen, laugh and share.

If we are very lucky, this is one conference that will continue to grow and develop.  Was it perfect?  Probably not, and a lucky thing too, as none of the attendees were either.  Imagine the pressure!  I’m sure there will be criticism, suggestions for improvements, and requests for more, or different.  That’s okay – that’s how we all grow.  Let’s not forget how unique each attendee was, and how individual their thoughts, goals and dreams might be.  To address all of these from 300 attendees, all in two and a half days is an ambitious undertaking.  There is a give and take that goes on as we all learn, share and grow.  Perhaps there were sessions in which you learned a great deal – congratulations, you were able to take away wisdom and inspiration.  If you were in a session that shared knowledge some of which you already possess, then perhaps that was your moment to give to someone else.  Perhaps your discussions or questions or input will help someone else, just as the panelists and moderators were so generously willing to share their insights with us.

This conference is a special, growing thing.  We would do well to appreciate its graces, adore its most fetching traits and help improve it where we see room for improvement.

Enormous thanks to the organizers, the sponsors, the volunteers and all those attendees who bought tickets in good faith that a good thing would come back as good or better than it had been the first time we experienced it.

I’m leaving town with a full heart, an inspired mind.

And I’ll be back, every year Blissdom Canada will have me.

nbsp;

Why did I come?

We all want to be real.

Will I know anyone?

Wait, I know you.

Will anyone know me?

I wanted to meet you too.

Laughter.

Who else can I find to meet?

Hugs.

More connections.

So that’s what her voice sounds like.

Who knew her eyes had such a spark?

Wait, someone else we know.

She lights up a room.

I didn’t know you were shy too.

Who knew she would blush when teased?

There she is.

She has the best laugh.

Why did I not know she had dimples?

I want to laugh every time she looks at me sideways.

More hugging.

She speaks so honestly.

Where did she come from?

We listen.

What is her story?

Applause.

We share meals, coffee, drinks, treats.

We keep talking.

Tell me more.

Who else can we include?

We keep laughing.

We make memories.

More hugging.

We say farewell.

We have become real.

It’s not them, it’s you (gasp!)

This week I read a great post by Neil Hedley, about how some people fail to realize while it may feel better to blame others when things don’t go their way, at some point they need to take responsibility and realize – maybe it’s them.

Or, to quote him directly and change the perspective, “maybe it’s you.”

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be your opportunity. Maybe today isn’t your day. Maybe you just didn’t pull it off.

Maybe no one sabotaged you.  Maybe no one else made a mistake. Maybe, just maybe, the fault lies with you.

Did that sting a little?

Trust me, at one point or another, we have all been there.  We have felt the hurt, the disappointment.  We have seen the worst things we think of ourselves come true, we have lived our own shortcomings.

It can be awful.

But wait – hold on a second.

Tell me, who the hell decided perfection was our destination?

Who has the time and energy to be perfect at everything?

Not me.  Not you.  Not anyone I know.

So why are we trying?

When did we decide that we needed to always win? When did someone make a rule that we aren’t allowed to just say “it’s not in my skill set” or the more likely “I really suck at that”.

Facing our shortcomings is a hard skill to learn – but it’s sort of freeing once we grow enough that we can say “it’s not a strength of mine”.  I’m confident enough in my intelligence and capabilities to freely admit there are areas where I will never, ever excel.

Set goals, work hard, and aim for targets that make sense.  But don’t ever assume that you need to win everything you do, or that it’s not okay to fail.  Don’t spend your time or energy blaming others, or yourself when it happens.

What if we could free ourselves from blame altogether?  What if, instead of blaming others, or ourselves, we put that energy into the next opportunity?  What if we used that energy to find the opportunities that truly are a good fit for us, thereby increasing our chance of the success we wanted in the first place?

What if we could always remember that after every chance, a dozen more swiftly follow?  Every opportunity has more coming right behind it, if we open our minds to them.

What would you do?  How high would you reach?

There’s a quote I often hear about failure that I like:

“What would you attempt if you knew you could not fail?”

But better yet…

“What would you attempt if you knew failure wasn’t the end of the world?”

Photo credit:  stock.xchg

Raw.

That’s the best word I can use to describe how we felt after the fateful events of September 11^th, ten years ago.  It was like having flesh torn away, leaving only pain and and open wounds behind.  And afterwards, just as it would be if something had been ripped from us; we ached and hurt.  It hurt to breathe, move, speak.  Our hearts’ healing would come, much later, but for many – the pain would linger.

For many of us, there would be so much distance it would hardly seem real.  Geographically we may have had space to disbelieve, to wish, to try to turn desperation into truth.  Those who had no choice but to face it head on felt the pain on deeper levels indeed.  We all lost something that day, but many losses were personal, enormous and lingering.  I lost security that day, perhaps some naiveté or some of the shelter that I hadn’t even realized was built around me from a lifetime of peace and safety.  But I did not lose family, friends, or watch my home fall under attack.

I went to bed last night with my heart aching – for the faraway pain of a city on its knees in memories, but again with the distance that my life affords me.  Though visiting New York City last year changed my perspective forever, I still did not lose the way others did.  Others who suffered losses of people, property or confidence in their personal safety lost so much more.  And to this day, that is what lingers.

Cities rebuild.  People lost are laid to rest and mourned.  A country stood up in mighty numbers to avenge the hurt.

But left behind is a wound that will never go away.  Forever, a population will remember the wound it suffered.  And it changes how we breathe, move, speak.  It gave a generation a close look at its vulnerability, and that both softens and hardens us.  Where will our hearts take us from here?

Forever, a country will remember learning how deeply it could be hurt, and how easily.  I keep thinking of a line that is often quoted about parenting.

“Making the decision to have a child is momentous.  It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”

~Elizabeth Stone

Ten years ago, a country, and indeed a continent, watched as its heart was opened to the world.  It felt the deepest wound.  And today, though ten years of healing have marked our path, our hearts and vulnerability will be exposed forever.

Some people say they will not spend this day any differently than others, because they remember every day.  That is theirs to claim, we all have our ways of reconciling events of this magnitude.  Still others are comforted by the marking of a day, an anniversary, and feel the need to reach out to others in words, hands to hold, voices coming together. There is no right answer, people live and love and hurt and grieve in their own ways, today is no different.  I have written of this day once before, but many years I have not, and that may feel right to me.

But the questions remain.  Will we heal, and harden?  Will ten years mark the end of an era?  Or can we accept our vulnerability and take our hearts forward into the future, stronger even as we acknowledge where we are still raw?

Photo credit:  stock.xchg

Two years ago I took a leap off a cliff, and with the support of some really wonderful people, managed to not perish miserably in the fall.

I started blogging.

Yes, this little corner of the internet that I call home came to life two years ago this week.  Maybe you began reading long ago.  You’ve been patient while I figured out what I might share, and how I should share it.

You’ve shared laughter, sadness and more truth with me than I ever could have hoped for.  If you’ve recently discovered this blog, I hope you feel the connection created here by the amazing people who come to read and share parts of themselves.  It’s a precious thing.

And what now?  Who knows?

I want to loosen things up, and just this week wrote my first review.  I had a lot of fun, and I hope to find more interesting things to share with you – but only if they fit with what we love around here.

I want to be more serious, and have loved the deep connection we’ve found over posts like Who celebrates you? and What makes you beautiful? and of course, What should you bring to a conference?

I have been honoured, and humbled by, recognition like this from Canadian Family.

“To get the truth,

you want to get your own heart to pound while you write.”

 - Robert McKee

That’s where I’ve found the place I really love.  There are many posts that I love to write and share, or that I feel have a place here but every so often when we all come here and just tell the truth – well, that’s a little bit of magic we don’t see in our average days.  As honest or genuine as we may be, it takes work to stop with surface things and bare a little bit of ourselves and say – me too.  Or, I wish.  Or…I regret.

So maybe as time goes on, we’ll find more ways to show our real hearts here in this space.  We’ll show sides of ourselves that we maybe keep hidden in our daily lives – those rare, precious, real parts of ourselves.

I’ve seen it happen, right here.  And it’s a damn beautiful thing.

Two years.  I feel very privileged indeed.

Photo credit:  stock.xchg

September has arrived, with the smell of freshly sharpened pencils and the squeal of the school bus brakes.  Some days are still gorgeous and blue, the sun still comforting and warm.  Other days hold cloud and a hint of mist that whispers…fall has arrived.

These are the days for which I wait.  Swoon.

Oh, but those of us who love September so madly need be very sneaky around all those summer lovin’ types.  Those who dream of the beach and hot summer sun will cringe at the mention of cooler days and warmer clothing.  We must be sly in our affection for this month, and tempt naysayers with warm drinks and promises of boots and fuzzy sweaters.

Apples, anyone?

One of the best things about this month is getting everyone back to school, back into combed hair and clean shoes.  We fill backpacks with notebooks, kiss cheeks, dole out hugs but there it is…another moment to let go and realize, yes, grow they do indeed.  Look at the long legs that stretched through yet another summer.  Watch the long arms reach and wave, and realize small boys turn lanky in the sun.

Summer held hours, days, of family time and relaxation.  Holidays added exploration, and recreation.  But as August drew to a close, we knew it was time for more.  Every year the pattern repeats, and we are glad to welcome September once again.

This week I hugged my newly minted second grader, wished him well and sent him off to class.  His mind will once again be filled with new learning, his muscles worn tired by endless games and races.  He will come home to us tired out in a way that an almost seven year old can only be tired out when challenged both mentally and physically.

It’s good for all of us.

Fresh pencils, pages and a fresh start.  All tempered by a cooling breeze, under our warm prairie sun.

What will he learn this year?  What will move him?  What will catch his curiosity?

I’m ready to let him grow, again.

School’s in, people.

 ~~~~~~~

The larger the island of knowledge, the longer the shoreline of wonder.      ~Ralph W. Sockman

Photo credit:  stock.xchg

A Sharpie marker.  A sticky label.  A room filling with people.

I started the conference with a nametag that simply stated my first and last names – a polite entry into what would swiftly become a social and inspirational whirlwind of epic proportions.  I began my weekend by attending the Women Create Media event at the University of San Diego, and it was a fantastic way to kick off this year’s BlogHer conference.

Resisting the urge to journal every moment of a whirlwind conference is not only difficult – it will prove impossible for many.  I want words on screen, stories committed to memory and every last inspiration explored, just like everyone else.  I want to tell every single person I hugged, by name, how much it meant to me to connect with them.  I want to tell you about every single hour of each day.

But I’m not doing it.

There’s no way to tell you what it felt like to connect with people – some of with whom I never expected to share more than an online connection.  I can’t tell you how many people were worthy of so much more conversation and attention than I had to give – I lost track.  Time disappeared like water down a drain, and before I knew it, the weekend was over.

There will be other posts you can read about the details of what went on, but trust me, if you can’t hear the music, feel the hugs, or experience the view, sparkles, fireworks, Latino dancing men, unicorns, glow sticks and cheeseburgers for yourself, it won’t mean anything.  And though I took home primarily souvenirs I purchased on my own and never took time in the Expo hall, if you aren’t unpacking a bag filled with flipflops, pens, toys, household items, snack foods and bedroom toys like many of the attendees, you aren’t going to feel a part of it.  (Though I’ll admit it, if anyone writes about having issues with airport security and bedroom toys, I’m totally reading those posts!)

I spent the rest of the weekend with a nametag on that showed my name, my Twitter handle and my website URL, and answered as readily to Mocha as I did to my own first name.  (Oh, yes, I did, and it’s one more reason to always choose your blog and Twitter names carefully.  This is how people will remember, recognize and refer to you…we all do it.  I am more than happy to be called Mocha.)

Yes, it was amazing to see everyone in person again, and meet people for the first time.  Yes, the sessions and keynotes moved my heart, brain and soul.  I have notes and notes to review, and spent Sunday morning madly following all the moderators, panelists and speakers on Twitter. Yes, the parties ranged from gracious and entertaining to silly and ostentatious.  We spoke, listened, laughed, danced and shared every emotion from morning until night.

I made it back to the hotel after the last party of the last night, kicked off my shoes and reluctantly peeled off the label that had been applied to my left lapel at the Aiming Low party.  I was “label-bombed” by the lovely Shannon and my label stated something she had tweeted about me earlier in the weekend.  I wore it with pride.  I transferred it to my laptop, where it remains today.  It reads simply “You are spectacular”.

Happy sigh.

I went from being Jen Taylor to Jen/Mocha to “spectacular”.  That’s the best way to tell you what it’s like to attend this conference.  Where else are you surrounded by a sea of (mostly) women, all looking for ways to connect, lift each other up, and generally entertain the hell out of one another?

It’s the best word I can use to sum up my six days away, and the best way to describe this amazing annual communion of women.

Dear BlogHer…in your choice of panellists, your attendees, your events and your keynotes, you were…spectacular.

Did you attend BlogHer ’11?

What was your favourite part?

Will I see you at BlogHer ’12 in NYC?

Love comes into our lives in many forms, through many channels.

If we are lucky, we love and are loved in return over and over from birth to our final days.  If we are blessed, we have many who want to share their love with us, who create for us a safe place with their love.  If we are wise, we are open to it, seek it, give it freely.

Out of a sea of possibilities, one of the most touching kinds of love is that given and received by children.  Tenderness between one of my children and me, or between my two children has an effect on me unmatched by most other kinds of sweetness.

Is it the pureness of their love?  How wholeheartedly they express it?  Could it be that the sweet, genuine need of a child surpasses all other responsibilities, leaving us helpless in its wake?

This week I bade farewell to my children, and my heart is having to do without them for nearly a week.  There isn’t a way to explain to a toddler what this goodbye means, or how long it will be until I return.  How to explain a destination so far away when all she knows is how far up and down our street she can see?  How to explain the time that will pass as “six days” to a wee girl who can count to ten but two months ago still counted “one, two, three, seven, thirteen”?  Even my soon-to-be second grader only understands at the simplest of levels.

The answer is – you can’t.  I couldn’t.  All I could do is hug and kiss them as much as they would allow, bid them good night and send them an early morning wish as I tiptoed out, hours before they would rise.

I have been so filled up, and inspired during my time away, and I speak with them daily.  I know we will all be excited upon my return, and I know they are in good hands with their father.

Yet, my heart is lonely for them.  Loving them makes me a better, happier version of myself.

Our children, in fact, any children sweeten our lives in ways we cannot always explain.

My advice to you is simple.

Welcome children into your life – your own, those of your friends and families, whenever you can.  Show them love, watch them grow and if you are lucky enough to have them return it, never take it for granted.

Love somebody little.

It just might be the best thing you ever do.

Photo credit:  stock.xchg

Put down the Spanx, everyone.

Take a deep breath.

I want to tell you something, before we all end up in some city-we’re-not-from, all in crowds and heaps and groups, not knowing which end is up.

Because that’s what it’s like sometimes, when so many of us are together; too much push-pull-worry-fret.  Too much of the crazy, the second-guessing, the shifting and adjusting of clothing and personalities and the little quirks in both that we worry someone might see.

It would be easy to bring too much to an event like this, easy to pack shirtsandpantsandshoes and stressandanxietyandnerves all into the same bag, and the airlines don’t even let you carry that shit on anymore.

And nor should you carry it on…or anywhere.

You want to know what to bring?

First, here’s what not to bring.

Unpack your cares.  Unpack any feelings of less-than and what-if and I-don’t-belong.

Because you do belong.  Anyone can, why not you?

Yes, it is that easy.

You belong.

You, with the wrong clothes.  You, with the wrong shoes.

You, with all your awkwardness, your silly antics, your snort-when-you-laugh…you belong.

You belong, because if you don’t, then there’s no room for that other girl across from you, who almost backed out last minute.  No room for the one whose hair appointment got cancelled.  There’s no room for the one who might have her shirt on inside out, the one whose shoes are killing her and who will spend all weekend barefoot and sheepish but happy.  No room for all the women who totally intended to lose twenty pounds or ten or something that just might help them get on the plane feeling good.  Or the one whose suitcase ended up in San Remo, not San Diego and who the hell knows where San Remo is anyway?  Or the one who isn’t brave enough to say hi to anyone but might be the most interesting person in the room if someone would just. ask. her.

Don’t bring anything that isn’t going to make this time away an awesome experience.  You have an opportunity, right in your hand, and if you don’t get your head out of your clouds, your worries, your insecurities, your ass, you might just miss it.

Take anything out of that suitcase that you know will weigh you down.

When it comes right down to it, it’s not about the black or the pink top, the wedges or heels, or is-this-print-too-busy?  It’s just not.  It’s not about wearing something you don’t love just to try to be who you think you are supposed to be to belong.  It’s not about dressing better than everyone else, or how many labels you can cram in your suitcase.

Here’s the thing.  If you are amazing, and we connect, I’m not going to know that you agonized over what you wore.  I won’t know you tried on twelve tops before finally choosing the right one.  I won’t know you nearly cried trying to figure out what to bring.

Don’t bring tears in that bag, ladies.

Before you pack a single thing, think carefully about what your experience could be like, with a little guts and a little effort.

Let’s be crowds and heaps and groups of women all ready to share something amazing.

Let’s have the guts to be real and beautiful, just as we are.  Let’s pack only what we love, and feel great in, and leave plenty of room for what’s really important.

Repeat after me:  Perfection doesn’t fit in a suitcase, and there are no scales at the hotel.

What should you really bring?

Bring excitement.  Bring joy.  Bring curiosity.

Bring questions.  Bring laughter.  Bring connection.

Bring an open mind and a happy heart.

Bring your goddamn best version of yourself, freely share it with others and watch what can happen when you decide to own your happiness.  When you decide you really do belong, and have things to say and that you really do have worth.

Yeah.  That’s the kind of stuff you should bring to a conference.

~~~~~~~~

What are you bringing?

Photo credit:  stock.xchg

Time.

Some days it sits comfortably beside us, and we are at leisure to feel the depth and breadth of it.  We are able to explore the corners of our days, we have the time we need to enjoy them.

Other days, it feels as though time is barely visible as it darts around corners, so far ahead we feel we will never catch up.  It is a silver thread of hope, and we reach for it, but our days tumble together, rushing by.  On these days, we cannot catch it, no matter how we try.

Sometimes we get so busy living, our life seems to run through our fingers like sand.  Tiny grains, so slippery we cannot grasp them.  So many things I want to do, be, places to see.

Am I where I should be?

Am I who I should be?

Every year, around this time, I make certain to find and read a favourite passage.

It centres me, pulls me toward a feeling of calm, of being in the right place.  I’ll admit that there are days when this feeling is beyond me, but for a glimmer of a moment as I read, it is mine.

Life has a way

of stripping away the nonessentials

one birthday at a time

until we’re left

with our real selves,

unashamed before the world,

refined by experience,

shaped by the things

we’ve learned

and the passions we’ve pursued…

And finally,

we know what we know,

and we love

what we love,

and we still have

this precious thing called time.

And it’s enough.

It’s more than enough.”

~author unknown

Have a wonderful day, everyone.

Be happy, eat chocolate, drink coffee, love someone, be loved.

That’s my wish, for myself, and for all of you.

What do you wish for, when you feel time disappearing?

image credit: stock.xchng

Two small heads – one towheaded, one hinting of ginger – are bowed over a small pile of toys, as my two children bicker and giggle and play.

We are on holidays, and one might say they have had to “make do” with the toys we have brought for them, having left the bulk of their belongings at home.  They have had to “get by” with a handful of books, a few toys and the souvenirs and toys we have added along the way.

Fresh fruit has been theirs to enjoy, crisp vegetables, rich cheese and meat.  Cool, satisfying milk.  Restaurant meals, desserts and treats.  They drink clean, cold water from their own colourful travel bottles all day long.  The oldest pops flavoured vitamins each morning, picking out his favourite colour.

Their skin glows.  Their eyes sparkle and their hair is silky soft out of the bath.  Wrapped in clean towels at night, you can see their pink and healthy glow.

This is the life my children live. This is the life my children know.  They are not yet old enough to know how fortunate they are.

Yet…the real world exists right outside our door.  I protect them fiercely from it, but just as fierce is my intention that they should see it, as they get older.  There is a real, harsh and cold world where some children don’t have the luxury of nourishing foods and new toys, where some children will never feel the contentment that a full belly provides.

There are children living in countries far away who struggle daily to survive, and there are children living in my city who do the same.  How to ever know them?  How to help them?  Will reaching out ever make a difference?

We’re about to find out.

It’s time to tell you about Heart for Art, a movement started by the fantastic Stay at Home Babe in the UK to benefit a group of children living in an Balinese orphanage.  Here is her post that will tell you all about it, but what I want to tell you is this – no, we can’t help every child in need.  But what if, today, you could read about a group of children who are in need, and reach out to them in a very real way?

Are there practical ways to help?  Of course there are.  Donations, supplies, of course these things are needed.  But what we are asking for with Heart for Art is a little of your time.  Perhaps you can get your children involved.  Maybe you have a network of moms who might like to be involved.

A work of art can be a thing of beauty, but so can a caring thought, a wish sent out into the universe and a hand held out from land and sea away.  Sitting down with your kids to talk about how fortunate they are, and what life is like in other parts of our global community is a great learning opportunity.  What might your kids share with others in need?  How do they feel about what they are hearing?

Today, create something beautiful.  Join hearts with other moms and bloggers and share the Heart for Art story.  Tell your kids about these children, and ask them to help you make some art to share.  Know that your time, effort and caring matters – if you can do more, wonderful.  A variety of ways you can help are listed at the bottom of this post.

What if each one of us did something good, whenever we had the chance?  What if it makes a difference to one child?  To two children?  A dozen or more?

I will tell you this – when I watch over these two small heads, and imagine my children living a very different life indeed, I can tell you, even helping two would be enough.

What will your heart move you to do today?

Create something beautiful with us.  Then share this post with other families, friends, artists or people in your community who you think might be moved to get involved in some way.

~~~~~~~~~

Here’s what you need to know, from the lovely Stay at Home Babe herself:

Heart For Art is not a charity, legal entity or official anything. It’s the title I’m giving to the movement that WE (you & I) are going to start. We’re going to make art, by ourselves, with our kids, with local artists or school art classes, and we’re going to send it to these girls. Then they can send pictures back to us. Simple, right?

There are bloggers across the world posting about this in the next few days and they’re going to be linking up below if you’d like to visit some of their posts. Please join us. If you blog and want to write your own post, then you’re awesome. Please do. Most importantly, bust out the art supplies and make something for these girls. Send it to one of the addresses below.

To get involved with Heart For Art (tweet hashtag #Heart4Art): we all just need to make something for these kids and get it sent to them! I’m going to serve as the mail depot for this side of the planet, to keep shipping costs from being prohibitive (it’s pretty cheap to send envelopes from the states to the UK… big packages get a bit pricier, but bubble pack mailers and especially just paper envelopes are way cheap). Sending the kids some stationary supplies they could use to write back would be cool but not a requirement. Once our art gets into Cate’s hands in Australia, she can either take it by hand on one of her trips if the timing is right or ship it on to the girls in Bali.

UK address is:
Lerner Farrington
Attn: Heart For Art
18 Suffolk Rd
Lincoln, LN1 2UG
UK

The Australian dropoff is:
Cate Bolt
Attn: Heart For Art
PO Box 239
Glass House Mountains, Qld 4518
Australia

If you would like more info or have any questions, please email HeartForArt18@gmail.com.

Obviously, the customary ways to support are always welcome. You can make direct financial contributions to Foundation 18 (the group home), or support Project 18, here’s some more information about that:

*Web Hosting Services: Wanna self-host, want discounted rates and know that the cash from your hosting service will go to an amazing cause?  http://www.project18.org.au/blog-hosting/

*Make a purchase from the Project 18 Inc. shop or Etsy shop.

*Buy a ‘brick’ of Fairtrade chocolate and help P18 build a ‘chocolate classroom’.

*Make a one off, or regular monthly contribution directly to Foundation 18, Indonesia

*Grab a banner or button from the Project 18 website and add it to your blog or website.

*Follow Project 18 Inc on Twitter and on Facebook

*Participate in Auctions for Education – pick up a bargain and know the money is going to educate kids.

What do we find so compelling about social media? 

Is it the all-hours access that suits our busy, scrabbling monkey brains?  Is it the global reach of our words and ideas, and what we learn by sharing thoughts with those a world away?  Is it a way to claim a time and space for ourselves, or because we have the same right and privilege to speak as anyone else?

Maybe it’s all of the above.  And maybe it’s something more.

If we are careful, we share our light with others, and reflect the light we see in them.

Anyone who has tried to explain the appeal of these limitless communities to others has run into the same roadblock.  How do you explain something you can’t see?  How do you take apart connections made over these wires, and show the parts to someone else?  How do we explain how these connections help define us, that they are a part of how we see ourselves?

Sometimes the best things aren’t seen.  We can’t see the connections we share with the people we have met online, but we can feel them.  We know they exist, we have tested their strength from time to time and we have confidence in their solidity.  We can’t reach out and shake the hand of a new contact, we can’t hug friends, we can’t gesture as we communicate like we would so readily in real life.

How can we possibly call this communication?  Where is the appeal?

It lies in the challenge of building something good as we make our way along our online journeys.  When the pieces fall into place, and we create a communion of thought and ideas, we know we are doing it right.  When we relieve the burden of another or boost someone deserving of our support, we are doing it right.

We love the ability to learn anything we please, to meet anyone we want, to expose ourselves to new thought, new opinion by simply asking a question or offering our own thoughts.  It can be dizzying and overwhelming.

We persevere through early awkwardness, we find our place, we find our voice.  If we are wise, we write, we ponder, we discuss, we debate, we question, we learn.  If we are lucky, we grow. 

Is there a dark side?  Of course there can be.  We are still flawed human beings creating whatever voice we send out into cyberspace.  We react, we misunderstand, we bristle, we defend and we attack.  Where there are human hearts and egos, there will always be inappropriate reactions and flaring tempers. 

Yet, we are amazed by the goodness we find.   The personal and professional networks we create would trounce any other we’ve made in our careers.  Support overflows as we find our place online, and always, there are those who sense we have more to give and encourage us.

How we communicate with one another socially through media will always fascinate us.  We will attempt to label it, control it and define it.  Some will watch others and pattern actions after them in hopes of replicating their experience, but in doing so will miss the point entirely.

Because while this media is social, it is also very, very personal.

What we build out here, in this beautiful, flawed, limitless online landscape, is up to us.

It will mirror what we do.  It will mirror what we give.  It will mirror who we are.

Do you like what you see in the mirror?

image credit: stock.xchng

What does growth feel like?   

How do we measure change, if it is constant and all around us?

Why do we often think change will hurt?

I have started Jillian Michael’s 30 Day Shred DVD workout program.  It might be familiar to you, maybe not, but it’s definitely a challenge.  I joked the morning after my first workout that Jillian could throw me down a flight of stairs and it would probably hurt less, and I’m not sure I was kidding.

But it’s not really the fitness aspect I’m thinking about today.  What has struck me in these first few days is that the gritty, encouraging words used to motivate us physically are sometimes things we also need to hear as we grow personally, emotionally, professionally.

To a person who is used to occasional workouts consisting of kilometres clocked on an elliptical trainer, with loud music the only accompaniment, the words stand out.

And though I found them motivating as I went through the program and cursed my way through ab work and push ups, I actually think that they mean more to me when I take them further.

Here are some of the words you hear as you work through her routine:

“When it starts to get uncomfortable…those are the ones that count the most.  That’s what I want you to push through. That’s when change is gonna happen.”

“As you come to the end, don’t give up, don’t slow down.  Don’t finish slow, keep up the same pace and finish strong.”

“I know you feel that little knot in your stomach.  That is your body getting stronger.  That is fear leaving the body right there.”

It occurs to me that sometimes we need people around us who are willing to push us through the easy and into the challenges, who are willing to tell us we deserve whatever it is that lies on the other side of that hard work.  We need people to love us the way we are but we also need to hear – you don’t need to settle.

You can do something bigger.  Yes, it hurts.  Change sometimes does.  Yes, it takes work.  All good rewards do.

Sometimes I think we need personal trainers for life, not just for when we are trying to kick our bodies into better shape.

Are we as committed to kicking our lives into high gear?

What obstacles are in your way?  Who told you they are obstacles?    

Who ever said change had to hurt?

image credit: stock.xchng