The Not It Girl is changing into The Chrysalis Collective.
Busy week. Here’s another gem from my main man Jim Rohn:
Become a ghost for six months.
Make everything your fault.
Find the beast within you.
Throw yourself into the pain.
Cut out all the excuses.
Go all in on yourself.
Train like a warrior.
Work like a robot.
Eat like a king.
Reject vices.
Transform.
Upgrade.
Create.
Thrive.
Win.
Never forget when you hear a financial or life guru discussing risk, it originally came from my main man, Mr. Jim Rohn:
It’s all risky.
The minute you were born it got risky.
If you think trying is risky, wait till they hand you the bill for not trying.
If you think investing is risky, wait till you get the tab for not investing.
See, it’s all risky.
Getting married is risky,
Having children is risky,
Going into business is risky.
Investing your money is risky.
It’s all risky.
I’ll tell you how risky life is.
You’re not going to get out alive.
It’s all risky.
Designate your time. Again, Jim:
Just be more alert to the things that might be stealing your time.
Time is like capital.
You can’t let someone steal your seed corn.
You can’t let someone steal your capital.
And you can’t let someone steal your time.
You must designate your time, and some of the time that you designate you must not let anyone steal.
Casual time you might let someone intrude and steal a little bit, take a little bit.
But not serious time.
I saved this quote on Instagram:
Anyone agree how cvs has bad vibes. Walgreens is fine.
I’m not sure why I saved it. It made me laugh. I avoid going in CVS, and the quote is accurate- CVS is bad, and Walgreen’s IS fine.
Walmart bad. Target good.
Acme bad. Wegmans good.
Macy’s bad. Nordstrom good.
Dicks bad. REI good.
(I meant Dick’s Sporting Goods. As in:
Dick’s bad. Dicks good).
The quote was also prescient, and reminded me of something. Maybe a story a colleague told me recently about how she went into a store to buy essential oils, but she was totally turned off by the energy in the store, so she left. It reminded me of a passage.
But what passage? Then I found it. Here, for your pleasure:
Every business, every place, every person, everything has a certain mental atmosphere of its own. This atmosphere decides what is to be drawn to it. For instance, you never saw a successful man who went around with an atmosphere of failure. Successful people think of success. A successful man is filled with that subtle something which permeates everything that he does with an atmosphere of confidence and strength. In the presence of some people we feel as though nothing were too great to undertake; we are uplifted; we are inspired to do great things, to accomplish; we feel strong, steady, sure. What a power we feel in the presence of big souls, strong men, noble women!
Courtesy of Ernest Holmes, Creative Mind and Success
The Master in the Art of Living makes little distinction between his work and his play.
His labor and his leisure.
His mind and his body.
His information and his recreation.
His life and his religion.
He hardly knows which is which.
He simply pursues his vision of excellence at whatever he does.
Leaving others to decide whether he is working or playing.
To him, he is always doing both.
-James Michener
Seneca once said, “There is no easy way from the earth to the stars.”
You want something so bad that thoughts of it consume you. You wake up, and it’s there. You go to sleep, and it’s there. You see how it can happen, and every day take steps to getting it done. Hurdles, obstacles, obstructions appear, and you find a way around them. Day after day. Week after week. Sometimes year after year.
It’s called the path less traveled for a reason. Because that path is a real bitch. Here’s a little bit of Charlie B. to continue that thought:
If you’re going to try, go all the way.
Otherwise, don’t even start.
This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind.
It could mean not eating for three or four days.
It could mean freezing on a park bench.
It could mean jail.
It could mean derision.
It could mean mockery- isolation, isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance,
of how much you really want to do it.
And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds.
And it will be better than anything else you can imagine.
If you’re going to try, go all the way.
There is no other feeling like that.
You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire.
You will ride life straight to perfect laughter.
It’s the only good fight there is.
-Charles Bukowski
Ever wonder whether the small things you do every day make a difference? Read this story:
The Water Hyacinth
Once there was a little water hyacinth that grew near the edge of a big pond. It had dreams of seeing the other side of the pond, but when it murmured to itself about these dreams, the water just laughed and laughed and lapped at it dismissively. The other side indeed…for a tiny plant that couldn’t even move? Impossible!
The water hyacinth is a beautiful plant that can typically be found floating on the surface of ponds in warm climates. This particular plant was a perfect specimen: very beautiful, very small, and very delicate.
However- and this was something the water didn’t know- the water hyacinth is also one of the most productive plants on earth, with a reproductive rate that astonishes botanists and ecologists. A single plant can produce as many as five thousand seeds, but its preferred method for colonizing a new area is not to cast its seeds willy nilly, but instead to grow by doubling itself, sending out short runner stems that become “daughter plants.”
The first day this little water hyacinth appeared, nobody but the water even noticed it was there. Nobody noticed it on the second day either, as it doubled, not on the third or the fourth, as it doubled again and then once more. It was so insignificant, in fact, that for the first two weeks, even though it doubled in size every day, you would have had to search hard to see it at all.
By day 15 it had reproduced to cover barely one square foot of water, a tiny dollop of lavender-pink dotting the pond’s glassy green surface. On day 20, two-thirds of the way through the month, one person passing by the pond noticed the little patch of foliage floating off to the side, but mistook it for a lost bath towel or perhaps a discarded piece of wrapping paper.
More than a week later, on day 29, half the pond’s surface was still open water. And on day 30, just twenty-four hours later, the water’s surface had totally disappeared. The entire pond had been overtaken by a rich blanket of purple-pink hyacinth.
The take-away? Keep going. What you’re doing is working, even if you can’t see it right away. There’s no telling when it’ll all come together.
*Story compliments of The Slight Edge by Jeff Olson.
Since I’m fairly certain the only person who knows I have resumed posting is my website manager, er, hi Jenn!
Don’t overthink the fact that I took six months off. Overthinking is my job, remember? It’s just that I made a promise that I wouldn’t post until I found a way to fund my blog, so here I am. There’s just a point where you have to stop doing what you love and what you’re good at for free.
Right?
For me 2022 was the Year of Erma and TED, and it looks like 2023 is the year of Chicken Soup for the Soul. Strangely enough, I was re-reading some old blogs, and I came upon a post in which I mentioned that I do NOT read Chicken Soup for the Soul books. And now I will be published in two so far this year, and hopefully three or four that I’m still waiting to hear about. It is very strange how things work out.
So if you’re in a bookstore, or perusing Amazon, feel free to pick up a Well, That Was Funny Chicken Soup book. I have an essay in it entitled “To Bee or Not To Bee.” I will be featured in the Miracles edition in the fall as well, as well as some very prominent magazines I have yet to announce.
So if anyone else is reading this, welcome back.
(Wednesday will be my last post until November 7th).
I write this post on Sunday morning. My original post scheduled for today has been scrapped, as have my original Sunday plans. Because to quote Mrs. Dilber from The Christmas Carol?
These changes are indeed “in keeping with the situation.”
By the time you read this, it will be all over. Eagles vs. Dallas tonight, and the Eagles are undefeated. I prayed in church this morning for peace on Earth and goodwill towards men. For I am mother to three devout Eagles’ fans who patently, permanently and passionately despise Dallas. It is a hatred that burns with flash, flare and flame, never to be extinguished.
And it moves through our home like a incandescent conflagration, as it did when I was growing up. Then it was three older brothers who stoked the flames of their hatred for everything that is Dallas football.
Now it is three sons.
I don’t want to be home. I want to flee, far, far away. But I have to be home. Because mothers must be present in their children’s times of need. Such as now.
My household is pulsating with frenetic energy and tension. Whereas I usually leave the island for the day to go shopping, to wander around museums and bookshops, to catch a movie, or even to meet clients for Sunday coffee, today I feel the need to be here.
I don’t want to be here. Believe me, I want to be anywhere but here. But I must be here. For I am my sons’ emotional support animal.
So I am brewing coffee and preparing a roast chicken, hoping the comforting smells remind them of their humanity. I have hung my Eagles’ flag out front, hoping my solidarity will impress upon them that I am indeed their birth mother. I am wearing my green oversize cashmere turtleneck, a comfy garment that complements my eyes.
I need the positive boost.
They need my positivity. When a woman grows a baby in her womb, her DNA and theirs will always be inextricably linked. That’s why when our kids are happy, or sad, or conflicted, so are we.
So I have no choice but to be involved in this time with them. To stick close to home. The family group text has started, with lots of capital letters and exclamation points. Loud online betting has commenced, and jerseys are out. Spirits are high, because all boys are coasting on the endorphins from the Phillies’ wins.
So by the time you are reading this, the die will have been cast.
Pray for me.
One day I will write about October of 2022.
The Yin-Yang. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. The Wonder of It. About how events from the last five years finally converged into one loud noise called October 2022, thus changing the trajectory of my life.
But I’m still swirling around in it. You can’t write about the speed of the wind if you’re swirling around in a tornado.
So. I have just emerged from a self-imposed six-month long Monk Mode. If you aren’t familiar with it: Monk Mode = A Challenge + a Detox.
Here are the rules:
A definite start and stop date. My Monk Mode lasted from mid-April to October 1st.
A commitment to do certain amounts of certain kinds of work: The work I did this summer required me to be charming, gracious, cooperative, outgoing, patient, accepting, and unwaveringly generous. I rarely manifest all of these qualities simultaneously for such an extended amount of time.
A commitment to abstain from certain distractions or vices: I abstained from gossip. Complaining. Dating, socializing, drinking, phone usage, unhealthy eating, travel and unnecessary spending.
Definite rules for both commitments:
I would fast while at work, keeping my metabolism within my control and my brain sharp.
I would not sit down, building my endurance and lengthening my muscles.
I would not be late, call out of work for any reason, or ask for time off.
I would do more than was expected of me.
I would read two books a week.
I would write a minimum of two hours a day.
I would meditate and exercise every morning.
I would avoid sugar, carbs and unnecessary calories.
I did well. While I can’t give specific details since I’ll be writing it up as an essay for a magazine, here are my successes:
I was only late once due to a traffic detour, and once I had to leave an hour early.
(While I tried my best to avoid gossip and controversy, it tends to follow me wherever I go. I got through it).
I lost weight, my blood pressure went down, my endurance and vitality went through the roof, especially in the gym and doing my cardio.
And on Sundays, my day off, I let all rules relax. After church, anything went. Buy impractical baby blue platform clogs from Free People? Yep. Gin and tonics at 10:00 a.m. with wings, on the patio? Hell yah. Take five naps while binge-watching old movies? Indeed.
I vowed to leave Monk Mode the same way I started it: with joy in my heart. And I’m proud to say that at 8:30 p.m. on Saturday night, October 1, 2022, as I walked to my car with a big smile on my face, I knew I had accomplished my goal.
What a fantastic summer. And I still have October to look forward to. Chef’s kiss.
As I move closer to my writing residence in Ohio next month, things are progressing quickly.
Thanks to my marketing team for nominating me for FabOver40 contest. I won’t win, because it requires many followers on many social media platforms, and I do not have that. But I will still post it on my Chrysalis Collective Facebook page, so don’t be surprised if it pops up on your phone. Here’s the link:
https://votefab40.com/2022/mary-oves
Here’s something else I won this month: