Life Savor!

A while ago, I was invited to write a chapter for a book being published by W.W. Norton Professional Books. It gave me a chance to rewind my memory and zoom in on particular coaching clients I’ve had over the years.

I thought about Tom, a CPA/attorney who was mightily frustrated but couldn’t get a handle on why. He felt fragmented, almost tormented as he reached for something just outside his grasp and understanding.

After a few sessions it became clear that although he was making a ton of money, he hadn’t found his Right Livelihood. He kept being hired away at higher and higher salaries by companies that wanted to use all his skills, but he had an internal itch he couldn’t reach.

Tom wasn’t overqualified. He was underfocused.

Through our coaching he came to realize that there were a few aspects of both accounting and lawyering that he enjoyed, but not a whole lot. Together we identified exactly what he wanted to use from both those skill sets and perfect arena in which to use them. Management. Creativity. Collegiality (is that a word?). The challenge of ever-changing projects that would stretch him.

We crafted an imaginary job that would let him hit on all the cylinders he wanted to use, plus some new and exciting ones. We rewrote his resume to slant it toward his ideal job, and within a few weeks he had exactly what he wanted in an industry he’d never considered.

He’s a happy man these days. More time with his family, no unwanted stress, and a hefty six-figure salary. More money, more time for life, less stress. These days he is focused on what he has decided is really important.

How about you? Could you use some help getting re-focused on what matters to you? What charges you up and makes you WANT to get out of bed each day?

I’m available to help you with that! Sometimes it just takes a couple sessions with someone unfamiliar to bring things into focus.

Call me.

Share on Facebook

Tags: Family, focus, job, money, passion, right livelihood, unwanted stress, Work

The gray days are almost behind us. Cheers for new light and life!

Just wanted to exult in y’all’s direction about ALL THE LIGHT! that is flooding into our bedroom through the French doors onto the back yard. Sunlight shines through those cheap-but-effective filmy silk-like curtains and makes them shimmer, then pools on the floor magnificently. I didn’t realize how much I’d missed that lovely southeastern light till if reappeared.

When we bought this house, that back bedroom wall was solid, with the owner’s bed backed up to it. We couldn’t understand why the builder had blocked a view of the back yard and trees — though we came to find out when we installed those three French doors and were left with very little wall space. Now, though, with the room rearranged we still have a wall for the bed, a mirrored wall for my daddy’s antique mahogany highboy, and Robert’s manly, huge TV slanted in the far corner. It all works out — and meantime we’ve enjoyed those French doors for 20 years.

We have been watching the sleeping yard, waiting for spring. Now the tulips Robert planted just before our record 12-inches-in-24-hours snowstorm have all emerged. There’s something about red that loves to assert itself.  We also have white, purple, and peach.

I thought I’d want to cut them. In fact, I never understood people who had flowers growing and didn’t put some in vases, but now I do. Whether from the bedroom or our tacked-on garden room, we can look out and see those lovelies gently waving in the spring breeze. I can jolly well buy cut tulips at Kroger, probably better ones — but these are ours.

Doesn’t take much to thrill me.  I think that is the secret to a happy life. Notice and celebrate the good small stuff and disregard the crummy small stuff. And bear in mind that the seasons cycle and sunshine is always on its way — outside the house and inside yourself. At least, that’s what I wish for you.

Cheers!

Roz

Share on Facebook

Tags: celebrate, Family, love, parties, romance

You should understand that Buddy is no ordinary dog. Yeah, I know, everybody thinks that about their dog … but there is something about Buddy Bear that invites above-and-beyond behavior from his devotees.

Case in point: Cousin Mary, a reasonably intact 80-something cousin of Robert’s who is otherwise essentially sane.  She has a real jones for this seven-pound pup, and it’s totally reciprocated. He does love to shack up with Mary. When we’re getting close to her house, he starts to whimper and his whole body vibrates. We’re at MARY’S!  Hot damn!  Mary, who feeds him scrambled eggs, keeps a small bed for him beside her computer, and best of all, lets him sleep with her all night!

It gets better. When she’s through reading her book and slides down in the bed, Buddy gets up on her pillow, curls himself around her head, and spends the night like that. If he happens to bark (again), it doesn’t faze Mary, because she’s hard of hearing anyway. Such a deal for Buddy! What a hassle for Mary’s daughter Paula, who absolutely can hear him — but she is a fabulous good sport and happy to see Mary enjoy him so. She says fondly, “They make such a cute little couple.”

At Happy Tails, the doggie daycare place, Maria says everybody grins when Buddy arrives because he’s so full of joy. I asked her once what he does there all day. “He plays.” Well yeah, but what else? “That’s what he does all day. He plays all the time, with all the bigger dogs. The other little ones bore him. He takes a nap when it’s time to, but then he starts to play again. All day long.”

Maria takes him into what I think of as the airlock, a small chain-link staging area where a newcomer stays till the other dogs have smelled him — then he gets to join the gang.  On the Happy Tails little closed-circuit camera aimed at the doggie playroom, I watched horrified one time when he entered the arena and all the other dogs piled on top of him. He absolutely disappeared. Then from the bottom, out squirmed this little black caterpillar pup and leaped back onto the pile.

When a considerably larger dog is in his vicinity, Buddy flops over on his back, showing his belly to acknowledge cheerfully that he’s submissive, then leaps up and starts the play. He is fearless except with lawnmowers, the vacuum cleaner (my sis calls it the Puppy Sucker), and people on wheels. Kid on a bike, dude on a motorcycle, Buddy barks in dismay. I think he can’t figure out what they are. Actually, come to think of it, he’s the same way with toddlers. Are they humans? Naaah, too small. Other animals? Naaah, don’t smell right. Woof!

The first time I picked him up from Happy Tails, when he was only about four months old, Rhonda the owner told me, “When you get him home, don’t worry if he seems sick. He’s just exhausted.” And so it’s been for the last three years. He comes home utterly pooped but happy. He plays zoom-puppy for us, of course, tear-assing around the house, cornering down the hall like a sports car, but we just aren’t lively enough for seven days a week — so we bless Happy Tails.

As for Moi, I confess an unnatural love for the Budster. I adore his gorgeous little body, with its deep chest and small waistline. He’s got the most adorable little cream-colored wishbone butt. I love how he’s chocolate on top and cream on his belly and legs, absolutely symmetrical.

Best of all is our armpit action. He rolls over on his back and I put my palm on his chest and a finger into each armpit, and gently massage him there. His eyes get slitty and every muscle goes limp. I feel like somebody should holler, “Get a room!”

Who would ever have guessed that puppy molestation could be such fun?

Cheers!

Roz

Share on Facebook

Tags: dogs, Family, love, musings, Relationships

In the past few weeks we’ve had a constellation of events to celebrate. First Christmas, then our anniversary, then Valentine’s Day.

Christmas was with our precious friends in Knoxville, and what with packing and traveling, Robert and I sort of postponed actually giving each other anything. “The trip itself will be our gifts to each other.”  Yeah, right. How’s that workin’ for ya? Terrific but not unwrapable.

Our anniversary, December 26, was going to make up for it, though the actual gifting would be postponed till we could get home and make reservations for our celebration: a weekend at a B&B. Except somehow that kept slip-sliding away.

But Valentine’s Day was by-God gonna happen.

Since I love Internet sleuthing, I started scouting out B&Bs, coming back (as usual) to a darling cottage in Fort Worth. Except that it was $225 a night, 30 miles away, and we’d be in Fort Worth. I mean, Cowtown’s great as a destination for specific events, but I got discouraged at the prospect of still having to whomp up where to eat and what to see or do — besides the obvious and delicious prospect of the actual shacking up.

And gee, for that kind of money we could spend the night at some scrumptious hotel right here in Dallas, and have a piano bar and room service without ever going out. Good plan. I started a telephone search for just the right place to spend Saturday night the 13th, so we’d wake up on Valentine’s Day in each other’s arms in a bed not our own. Wooo. Sexy.

Except that hotel after hotel didn’t have room for us. I finally got the word from a helpful reservation guy that I might as well give up — the whole town would be full. Well sure, I said, since after all it’s Valentine’s weekend. No, that wasn’t the reason — it was the NBA playoffs.

No problem, we’d just celebrate a weekend early on the 6th, and we’d stay at the refurbished old Melrose, now spiffed up as the Warwick Melrose with attendant hikes in rates. Except we got bad colds, mine turned into bronchitis, and we had to postpone till the weekend after Valentine’s.

Which is why we spent LAST NIGHT! at the Melrose, with their recycled Valentine package of champagne and chocolate-dipped strawberries, and a nice note from the general manager. We got nicely relaxed in the Library Bar, waited on by identical twin sisters, Amy and Jamie. Robert asked, How often do you get that “I guess I’ve had enough, I’m seeing double” routine? Answer: about three times a night.

We had a lovely room, a lovely time, even lovely attire. I especially enjoyed Robert’s red silk PJ bottoms, reserved for state occasions.

And where was little Buddy Bear while we were besporting ourselves in a posh hotel? Ah, he had his own shack-up. I’ll tell you about it next time.

Home now in our own bed, under our new red comforter, determined to do that hotel thing again. Robert’s birthday is in March …..

Cheers!

Share on Facebook

Tags: celebrate, love, Relationships, romance, Sex

First, a disclaimer: I send sincere sympathy to people in the midwest, battling that vicious winter storm. I admire how you push on through, persevere through ice and snow and lost power.

Having said that, I’d like to tell you about another side of snow—the delight it brings to folks who seldom see it. Here in Dallas it snowed continuously for 18 hours, Wednesday night and all day Thursday, the most snowfall in Dallas history, officially 12.5 inches in 24 hours.

For us it was a helluva show,  truly amazing to look out and see all those fluffy flakes pouring down non-stop. Last night we turned on the back yard light, and it was a fairyland, even more than in the day. Gorgeous! Lace in the air, glitter on the bushes.

Robert got some great photos. Then last night he went out four times and shook several hundred pounds of snow from various trees, after we lost the major limbs on the already-compromised one that was cantilevered out over the driveway. My beloved old youpon is still leaning out over the drive instead of standing upright in the front yard. I hope it survives all this wondrousness. It is so tall after 27 years that its upper branches were unreachable for de-snowing.

Each time Robert strode out he wore his goofy-looking Peruvian wool cap with topknot and ear-flaps, plus a different jacket and gloves on each venture—they got soaked with the snow that fell on him when he shook the trees. Eventually he just schlepped out in his robe, and I’d meet him at the front door with a towel. This was not an ideal exercise for a guy with a 10-day-old stubborn cold, but hey, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.

BuddyBear adores the snow, which is up to his belly. He does a kind of soaring hop to navigate it, and when he finally pees, it’s unmistakable. Yellow snow, doncha know.

It’s all starting to melt now, sliding off the roof and the trees (you go, Youpon!). Some fell from the big back-yard elm and plopped right in front of BB, but he was unconcerned. The ground snow is still up to his belly. He uses a hop-&-soar technique to navigate it, and he chooses the deepest parts, eschewing the thinning areas on the deck. He wants to play in the SNOW!! He’s having the time of his life, pure ecstasy in a 7-pound body. Then he comes inside to shake, so the garden room rug is a mite damp. And the puppy actually grins. I didn’t realize they could really do that.

Robert is now out clearing his car, as he has a couple of photo shoots scheduled today. I, on the other hand, have no clients till tomorrow, so I’ll continue to laze around in my robe and scarf and hang out with the Budster. Life is good, and ain’t it grand to know that!

For me, happiness is choosing to enjoy, even celebrate, small things. And then when a big one comes along, like a record-breaking snowfall on a day I can stay home, my cup runneth over.

Hoping you are the same.

Love, Roz

Share on Facebook