Just so you know, don't expect any sage advice, or morals to these stories (unless of course you want to provide a moral in the comments!), mostly me probably embarrassing myself. Enjoy.

The That's Not a Pen Edition

Don’t let the name fool you, Crystal City, Virginia isn’t really a city.  Just South of the Pentagon, it’s populated by high rises, all interconnected underground, and teeming with defense contractors. The people spend their days in the hermetically sealed air-conditioned buildings.  A cross section would look like an elaborate granite and steel ant farm. Which didn’t really matter because, as far as I could tell in 1987, hardly anyone actually lived there.  The tens of thousands that arrived each weekday morning for work, left for their real towns and real homes, soon after the bars closed down the free happy hour buffets each evening.

I had nailed a waitressing position at the Crystal City Marriott to pay for my stay that summer in Washington, D.C.  It was the summer of the cicada on the east coast, and my first full summer away from home in Oregon.  I just turned 20 and had been away to school in California for two years, but I’d always returned to the security of home each vacation.  Now, I was renting a house in Arlington with one old friend and two new ones, and working in Crystal City, a bus transfer and metro ride away.

The big money was in dinners where the tabs were higher, and money flowed freely from expense accounts, but I was scheduled for lunches.  The work was fast-paced yet uncomplicated, if you worked hard you could make decent money.

These lunch guys, and they were mostly men, were on a tight timeframe, so you could turn over tables quickly, and they were, most of them anyway, decent tippers.   Occasionally though they’d leave you a Denny’s Sweep – just a few coins that you had to sweep off the edge of the table with one hand into the outstretched palm of the other.

The restaurant staff was like a mini-United Nations.  Two of the other waitresses and the bartender were Ethiopian, the manager was Iranian, one busboy was Afghani, another Thai.  There were workers from Bangladesh, Peru and many other parts of the world.  The funny thing was they thought I was exotic because I had been living in California.

As the summer wore on, the days blended into one another, unremarkable.  The suits started arriving around eleven and the last left at about two in the afternoon.

One day, I had a difficult section, with a large six-top and a half a dozen deuces.  Between requests for ketchup, iced tea refills and making change, it seemed I was running more than normal.  Maybe it was just that I was grumpy with cramps and had to go to the bathroom.  Usually, I’d try to go before the lunch rush, and not again until after things had slowed down, but I wasn't going to be able to wait.

On my way out the door, a gentleman from the six-top waved me over.

Oh for God’s sake, this better be important, I’m about to pee my pants.

He was sitting at a table of clones.  Six professional men in their mid-forties, with short dark hair, and dark, slightly rumpled suits.  Only their ties were subtly different from one another.

“This pen doesn’t work,” he said shaking it back and forth in the universal gesture of pens with no ink.

“Oh sorry,” I mumbled, willing my bladder to remain crimped shut.

I handed him another pen from my apron pocket and waited for him to take it so I could get to the bathroom.  He didn’t.  I shifted my weight, and restrained myself from throwing the pen at him and running for the bathroom.

I looked at him, and then at each of the men.  They all were staring at my hand.  I followed their eyes and saw that I wasn’t offering him a pen, but instead my Super Plus for heavy flow days Tampax brand tampon.  It felt 20 degrees warmer as a bright red flush of embarrassment filled my face.

“Uhhhh, that’s not going to work, is it,” I finally blurted, handing him a real pen from my pocket.  I turned and quickly made my way to the bathroom. I hid out as long as I could, but soon the need to earn tips from the other tables outweighed my mortification at having to face the six businessmen and my co-workers and I left the safety of the bathroom.

When I walked back into the restaurant, I did so at a slight angle, turned enough that I didn’t have to look at the table but could see it in my peripheral vision.  It was empty, and had been re-set already.  Next possible crisis averted, they were gone.

“Congratulations!” shouted the manager. Oh great, let the teasing begin.

“What?  Why?” I said a forced smile appearing on my face.

“You must have given those guys some great service, because this is the single-largest tip anyone has ever received here,” he said, thrusting the credit card receipt in my face.  Apparently the men had felt the best way to assuage everyone’s embarrassment was to give me an outrageous tip.

My hourly pay average just skyrocketed.  It was almost enough to make me want to carry a tampon in my apron pocket at all times.  Just in case.

Really, it's a the gift of an Experiment with Getting Quiet, because I also want to give myself the gift of not turning this into another thing on my long to do(n't) list.

A gift of the present

I've had this feeling of wanting to meditate pushing at my edges for years.  At least ten years, as I'm thinking about it now, and probably more. I've dabbled in different things, taken classes, read books, tried different techniques and ideas from different traditions, and nothing really sticks for long.

Yet I keep hearing this little bitty voice in my heart saying, some quiet sure would be nice.

So this experiment is the opportunity to ease that nagging energy and notice what happens when I spend time getting quiet every day.  Not being quiet, because you can't always control that, but getting quiet.

It's just an experiment

And, because it's a one-year experiment, if at the end of the year, I can stop if I want to, and not give meditation another thought for the rest of my life.

I'm assuming that won't happen, but I want to leave plenty of space to be surprised. I want to look as this openly, not put a lot of expectations about what will happen or how I'll feel. That's hard to do, so I'm going to be really clear about what this gift looks like:

• Spending 10 purposeful breaths in quiet each day.  Ideally at least 10 x 10, but I'll be satisfied with just 10.
• Jotting down some notes about what I'm noticing.
• Providing a weekly update here.

Care to join me?

I keep trying to explain it, though, because I love it for myself and for my clients, and there are things about hypnosis that make some people nervous.

• I don't want to lose control.
• I don't want to be told what to do (especially if it involves making animal sounds).
• Can I even be hypnotized?

Twitter to the rescue

I was hanging out on Twitter the other day, reading and bantering, and came across a Re-tweet from my friend Eileen over at Soul Sleuthing.  She was passing along a link for a blog post called, "On hypnotherapy and hot grocery store mamas" on a site called Cleavage. I fell all over myself to click on that title.

Boy, was I happy I did.

Kelly Diels tells a funny story, and follows it with a fantastic and completely unexpected description of what hypnosis feels like.

She describes it as lucid dreaming.

Yes.  It is a lot like that.  And it seems to give you exactly what you need in that moment.  And you know how in dreams, all this weird stuff just sort of fits together?  It's like that too.

How about you?

What intrigues you about hypnosis?

What scares you?

Lately I've been noticing how much violence sneaks into every day conversation. Once I started paying attention, I was a little stunned at the amount of violence behind my words. Things like conquering, and beating, and pimping.

With a little awareness, I'm (mostly) using words that more accurately reflect my peace-loving self. But a few words and idioms are such succinct, well-understood short-cuts it's difficult to find substitutes.

I'm talking about these kinds of things:

• There's more than one way to skin a cat.
• Kill two birds with one stone.
• Pimping

I'm going to keep thinking about different ways to express these ideas, and I'd love to hear from you.

What new words or phrases could replace those?

What other sneaky violent references pop up in every day conversation?

The view from my window at the retreat. Complete with deer (in the middle of the photo).

It's a crazy, twisted little trick.

It's so easy to get in that mode, and push, Push, PUSH. Sure, stuff gets done, but so do you. Cooked. Burnt-out. Deflated. Sick.

I have an extra lot on the to-do list today. See I pretty much took all of last week off. I took the time to attend Havi Brook's Destuckification Retreat at the last minute.

Am I glad I did. Today was going to be busy before I rearranged things, and put stuff off until this week. Now it's just extra busy. And, instead of feeling overwhelmed it's going smoothly. Had I not taken the time to really relax, explore what I need and get re-inspired by my business (and boy am I re-inspired!) it would have been gerbil wheel central around here.

Every so often it's great to retreat.

I know it's not always possible to get away, so I want to tell you about a really cool opportunity to retreat in the comfort of your own home, live or on a schedule that works for you.

Jen Louden's Virtual Retreat

She's the Comfort Queen, and her book, The Woman's Retreat Book was featured on Oprah. I've retreated with her, and she knows what she's doing! The whole set-up is pretty great. There are 13 mini-retreats, a workbook, support and structure to help you get the most out of it.

If you're on the gerbil wheel, please take a moment to relax and breathe and explore how to find a little more calm in your life.

One of the things I noticed is that I was following these systems, but they weren't quite right for me. I was doing what I thought I should be doing, not what I wanted to do.

For example, every year I'd come up with something around money. But I'd never want to be so crude as to actually use the word MONEY. That would be too base. So, I came up with schmancy names, like financial wisdom or life wealth or a gazillion forms of abundance. But you know what? I never really felt connected to the resolutions or goals, and the results were what you'd expect. Completely variable.

As opposed to the times where I really connected with what I wanted. Like when my goal of being active wasn't getting me to the gym or on the trail, but training to climb Mt. Hood, got me out every day. And now, more than a year later the basic goal still gets me to the gym and on the trail, even after reaching that particular summit. I've just keep changing the name of the summit!

So this year, as I was reflecting on 2009 and looking forward to 2010, I happened to read one of Michael Neill's Coaching Tips, "What's Your Impossible Dream for 2010?"

In it, he talked about setting up a big challenge for yourself, something that is hard to believe can happen, but you'd love it if it did. The example he gave was, "a 90 day game where "winning" was defined as earning more than [he] had earned in the previous 12 months."

Wow, talk about big.

As I was reading, it hit me. I wanted to do the same thing. And I wanted to do it around money. Not wealth, financial security or abundance. But money. (Cue The Apprentice theme song.)

He gives lots of good information about why creating an impossible dream like this works. All good, important stuff. But the thing that struck me was the use of the word money. I realized that I had some fear that if I used the word money, rather than one of the nicer, P.C. terms, I'd turn into some kind of money grubbing huckster, who'll do anything for a buck.

Ha. Not likely.

Suddenly I can trust myself to say what I really want out of this particular challenge. Money. Because behind that word is so much more… Helping people tame their fears. Igniting inspiration. Supporting other little people's businesses. Having fun and laughing along the way.

And boy, when I set up my own Big Ass Money Challenge, the energy and excitement around it is game-changing. A little something magic happens when you trust yourself, even when it means using a word that can seem crude.

* * *

Are you feeling stuck with resolution-making or goal-setting? Check out the teleclass I'm co-teaching with Janine Adams of Peace of Mind Organizing, called Why Resolutions Don't Work (and how to get what you want anyway).

(statistics from 2008 survey by Opinion Corporation of Princeton, NJ)

If you fall in that big middle group (or have drifted into the no resolutions group due to disappointment) this could be the year for something different.

Janine Adams and I teamed up again (we co-created the Declutter Happy Hour course) to teach this teleclass.  We share with you the reasons resolutions don't work, and more importantly what to do instead. We give you tips and strategies, and guide you through helpful exercises so you can experience a new way of approaching your resolutions and goals.

Perhaps you'd like to declutter and get organized this year, or maybe you want to make changes for your health, creativity or finances. Our approach is terrific for whatever set your sights on.

This year is going to be different.

Why Resolutions Don't Work

(and How To Get What You Want Anyway)

The teleclass is over, but you can still get the immensely helpful recording.  It's great to listen to any time you want to re-vamp a resolution that isn't working, create a new habit or establish a goal that really works for you.

Details:

• We talk for about an hour and then open it up for questions.

• During the call we talk about the common reasons that setting resolutions doesn't work, and we explain and guide you through exercises that help you get what you want.

• This is for anyone who has been frustrated by resolutions or goals, and wants to learn a new way to approach it.

• The cost? Just 19 bucks.

• Special bonus. Everyone who signs up will get a coupon for $20 off any product or service offered by me or Janine.

Are you in? Yes? Just click the "Add to Cart" button:

You'll get a link to the recording in moments.

Here's to getting what you really want!

After writing nearly 33,000 words I realized the tingling and numbness in my hands and pain in my wrists that started around 20,000 words, wasn't getting any better.  I bought Speech Recognition software and I wrote another 1000 words or so, but the learning curve for the software was steep. I still had to do a fair amount of mousing and typing.

Ultimately, I decided that meeting the deadline wasn't worth the pain. It wasn't easy, tears were shed. Once I'm healed I'll continue to work on the novel at a slower pace. After all, I'm anxious to find out what happens!

2. I miss being online. A lot.

To rest my paws, I went on a computer fast for four days.I glanced at e-mail on my Blackberry and responded only to urgent stuff. Other than that, no Twitter, no Facebook, no Kitchen Table, no Google searches, no reading my favorite blogs. Virtually no computer time until yesterday. I found myself wondering, a little too frequently perhaps, what was going on online, what my friends, colleagues and clients were doing.

The good news is I picked up the phone to connect with people, read some great books, watched some interesting movies, spent time with friends and family, and went on a couple of beautiful walks.  And now, I can poke my nose in online for a few minutes a day.  As long as I use a timer and pay attention to my wrists.

I'm also getting the hang of Bixby, which apparently is the name of the voice recognition software, because every time I say, MacSpeech, it types Bixby. I wrote this post with it.  Blame any typos, weird words or odd punctuation on Bixby.

3. I lived in the land of frustration for far too long.

As I mentioned in the post about my carpal tunnel coaching special, I'm just about ready to release my first product. I'm super excited about it, and can't wait to let you all know more. But there's a certain amount of typing and mousing that needs to occur before it's ready  to go.  So,  it's on the back burner for now. And then of course the novel, also on the back burner. And then there's e-mail, filling the library of the Tuscan villa that is my inbox.

All of this equals mucho frustration. Plus the pain. Did I mention tears were shed?

And then, my mastermind buddy suggested I use my own product. It was a  forehead slapping moment, hello I'm my own best client! I listened to the Boring Change recording, went through the process, and let my unconscious mind takeover. It's been so much easier than struggling.  The angst and emotional pain are gone, and the physical pain is definitely decreasing.

3 1/2. I love the song, Cum on Feel the Noize by Quiet Riot.

I'm only giving this a half, because it's not nearly as embarrassing to admit now as it was in the mid-80s when my zippered cassette case was full of Depeche Mode, INXS and Pet Shop Boys tapes. But still.

This is going to be quick.

It seems with all the novel writing and the hanging out in the Tuscan Villa that is my email and the finishing up of a new product, Boring Change, I have overtaxed my hands and wrists and have major pain from carpal tunnel and tendinitis. My days now consist of ice baths for my arms, ugly wrist braces, and long, frustrating chats with my new friend Bixby, the speech recognition software program.  At least that's what he said his name was when I tried to get him to type MacSpeech for me.

While I have to severely limit the use of my hands and wrists over the next two weeks, there's no reason I can't talk on the phone.

That's good news for you!

Normally I only have a few hours a week available for telephone coaching, but suddenly, all the time I had allotted to finish up that product is now wide open. So, I'm having a carpal tunnel coaching special!

If you ever wanted to try coaching but didn't want to make a big commitment, now's your chance. Between now and Friday, December 4, I'm going to be doing single coaching sessions (an hour-long) for just $99 each.  That's practically half my normal session fee.

Usually, we'd exchange emails, chat for 10 minutes or so, then schedule a session.  To try and limit the amount of typing required, I've put an add to cart button below. Once you buy a session you'll get an automatic e-mail to schedule it. Since this bypasses the normal get to know you process, if during the first 15 minutes of the session either of us decides this isn't the right thing, I'll cheerfully refund your money immediately.

Sound good?

And remember, you're not just getting a coaching session for a really great price, you'll also help me stay sane while I'm healing my hands and wrists.  And that's a good thing.

I'm in! (Click the "add to cart" button below)

Sorry, this extra-special offer has expired.
Learn how we can work together here.