Taking a Leap

inner peaceI logged on to write a blog today and was notified that it is my two year anniversary with Word Press. This has been a roller coaster of a two years for me. In February of 2012, I moved back to the states from the Virgin Islands and ended an almost ten year long relationship that had become quite toxic toward the end. I published my first novel. I started a journey toward becoming the best me I could be and, concurrently, loving myself exactly as I am. I published two more novels. I had two short term, but quite healing and lovely in many ways, love relationships. I went to the Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival twice. (See my blog on that if you are interested in learning about this amazing festival for women.) This one.

I wrote a blog about Christians and gays that pretty much went viral and was read in church by at least three preachers of varying sorts. (Edited for language, I believe. I’m pretty sure I used the word “asshole” too many times for most parishioners to be comfortable.) I lived off of my royalties. I lived in a camper in the woods. I lived in a lake house. I lived in a farm town in Iowa. I moved wherever and whenever I wanted. I traveled to Memphis and Phoenix and Palm Springs and Dallas. I went to literary conferences. I met a few soul mate friends. I set up learning about this Beth person without artifice. I made a pact to live an authentic life. I danced, I flirted, I made love, I fought, I got angry. I tried to take every chance I had at learning more about myself, why I react the way I do, and how to react differently if necessary. I put a “Namaste” sticker on the back of my car and then laughed at the irony of flipping someone off through the sunroof because they were tailing me on the freeway. I became a vegetarian. I stopped being a vegetarian. I became a vegetarian again. I went on a spiritual retreat. I grew confident.. I laughed at myself. I laughed at life. I laughed with joy. I laughed until tears ran down my face and I couldn’t breathe. I learned to love me.Truly love me.

The end result of this is that I am now the kind of person who believes that if something is calling to my soul, I should make every effort to do it.

The other day, a friend of mine suggested making a grocery list of things that call to my soul and see how that panned out as far as making a living. Well, really, what I want to do is write, talk to readers, meet other authors, do book readings, and go to literary conferences. Oh, and I want to just spread joy and love and happiness to everyone I can. I mean, why *can’t*  make a living spreading joy and happiness and love to people? To that end, I am leaving my day job and focusing on marketing my books, writing more, teaching classes on writing, and giving workshops that help women come to the same self-love that I now possess. I want them to learn to value themselves.

It’s authentic. It’s what calls to my soul. It brings me joy. I may not be able to make a living at it yet, but I don’t care. I don’t belong in  a cubicle wearing business casual, punching someone else’s time clock. I belong out in the world, spreading love and happiness. That’s why my books are happy… and it’s why I’m happy. Now, I am going to work at bringing that happiness and peace to others.

It’s a leap, but then, I like to live on the edge. I’d rather fail at something a million times than to not have tried it because I was afraid.

In the meantime, you can help by buying my awesome new book, “The Love Sucks Club” which isn’t really about love sucking after all.

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Sometimes Things Suck – And That’s Okay.

love sucks club coverIn honor of my new release, “The Love Sucks Club,” I’m writing today about things that suck. As any of my friends and blog readers can tell you, I am a proponent of living in joy and making life something to be loved. That said, sometimes things just suck. Sometimes, you’re in a sucky relationship or your job sucks or your financial situation sucks. That morning you slept late, stepped full on into cat puke, got a flat tire, and then got to work late only to get yelled at by your boss? That sucked. When you discovered your ex was cheating on you? That sucked? When your kid hit puberty and started yelling about how much she hates you and everything you stand for? Yeah, that really sucked.

For me, right now, my job sucks. I mean, it just sucks. I’m not even going to list the myriad ways in which it sucks. Just take my word for it. It sucks.

Sometimes things just suck. And sometimes, that’s okay. When things suck, we can wallow in the suckiness for only so long before we start to realize that we are going to have to make a change. I’ve been guilty of staying in a relationship for too long because I was afraid of the change. In hindsight, though, it was the best thing I ever did for myself. Leaving that relationship prompted me to sprout my own wings and challenge myself to live my own life.

I once smoked. I smoked for 22 years and at the end of it, I was smoking almost two packs a day. I couldn’t breathe. Really. I woke up every single night, several times a night with my hand pressed against my chest, trying desperately to take in some air. It sucked. It sucked so bad that one day I decided that not breathing was worse than the pain and difficulty of quitting and I stopped.

So my job sucks. And that’s okay. I’ve been kind of drifting along complacently, writing, and playing on Facebook, and half-heartedly marketing my books. I’m not very good at marketing, is what I kept telling myself. (That takes us right back into negative self-talk and self doubt, which are other demons to conquer, but that’s another story.) So I drifted and I lived an amazing life of travelling and hanging out with my friends and moving around and doing whatever I wanted to do whenever I wanted to do it. And then, the royalties started to dwindle and it came time for me to get a “job.” Which leads me to where I am now… in a job that sucks.

Here’s the part where I can reframe my perspective and find gratitude for the suckiness. You see, being in a cubicle in a job I hate is so far removed from who I am that I can’t stay there any longer than is absolutely necessary. And here’s where it gets kind of fun. Hating my job has led me to being way more active in self-promotion and working toward my dreams. I’ve recently written an eight week class on Creative Journaling for Inner Peace and Self-love that I intend to teach at the local Unitarian Church. I have made contact with several local news sources, one of which actually responded with a request for book copies for reviews, and an interview for a story. Through that contact, I met a screenwriter who wants to read my first novel and talk about the movie options. And for the first time, I ordered books myself from my publisher with the intention of getting them out there to be read and reviewed. I ordered a video promo of “The Love Sucks Club” that I will put on YouTube. And I am making a video recording of me reading a funny scene from “Man Enough.” Some of this stuff may lead somewhere and some of it may not, but the important thing is that I am getting out there and working for myself.

Would I have done all of this if I wasn’t wanting so desperately to get out of my job? I doubt it. I had plenty of opportunity before, and I didn’t. So, sometimes suckiness really is awesomeness in disguise.

My friend Yvonne is fond of telling me that I should do just one thing every single day that is a step toward my goals. One thing. Her thought is that as long as you do that one thing, no matter what it is, you have made positive progress toward living your dreams. She’s right. One little step every single day still means I am moving forward. And moving forward means moving out of suckiness and into awesomeness, which quite frankly, is where I belong.

To commemorate the birth of my newest novel and the embracing of suckiness in all of our lives, I am giving away a copy of “The Love Sucks Club” to one random person who leaves a comment on this blog.

 

EDITED: The winner of the book giveaway was Lisa Hurt. Thank you everyone who stopped by to play. And Lisa, let’s chat so I can get your information to send you a book.

Womyn’s Space and Michfest: Promoting what I love, not bashing what I hate.

There has been some struggle and controversy over the long standing tradition of one of my favorite places on earth to remain a woman born woman space. People are now trying to take away this space, to say that womyn who were born womyn do not have the right to gather together. I don’t understand this debate. We are not haters. We are not bigots. We are simply womyn. Womyn who have struggled many years with abuse, womyn who fight patriarchal privileged on a daily basis, womyn who are called sir in public, womyn who are subjected to wolf whistles and catcalls on the street, womyn who want to be in a place of safety and love, and womyn who just want to have a great time with other womyn – and we gather once a year for a week long womyn’s music festival in Michigan. It’s called, appropriately, The Michigan Womyn’s Music Festival.

This festival has been suffering some damaging blows from people who are so het up about the intention to keep this womyn’s space for womyn that they sling insults and hate campaigns at the musicians who are chosen to play at fest. As a result, some musicians have dropped out. I don’t fault them for this. I think they didn’t understand the torment they would suffer when deciding to play.

Sadly, all of this warring is putting my safe space, my beloved fest in danger. I don’t want to lose my safe space. But I am not a fighter and I am not a hater. I am about love. Long ago, I had a dream in which a friend’s deceased mother appeared to me and told me to “paint love on my forehead.” I’ve spent the time since then doing just that. I put love out to the universe and the universe has given me love in return. I am not cheap with my love. I spread it around and try to bring joy and happiness to everyone who comes into my world.

So, in trying to protect my safe space, I’m between a rock and a hard place. I don’t want to jump into the war, and yet, I think it is beyond important to make a stand to protect something that is nothing but good.

I decided that the only way I could fight was to follow my own preaching and to promote what I love instead of bashing what I hate. Instead of arguing with the people who want to tear down this place of love and healing, I am going to describe why I love it in hopes that I can convince other womyn to go and experience it for themselves.

Fest is a place where womyn can walk down a wooded path after dark alone without fear of being attacked. Fest is a place where a woman can wear whatever she wants and not have to worry about being raped, nor suffering the aftermath of hearing, “Well, look at what she was wearing.” Fest is a place where womyn who have spent their entire lives hearing that they aren’t pretty enough or thin enough or subservient enough start to realize that all of those “enoughs” are a fat lie designed to keep them insecure and in fear of how they measure up. Fest is a place where a woman can do yoga in the sunshine, meditate in a field, take a group journaling workshop, wash dishes in a baby pool, throw a tomahawk into a target, watch a movie under the stars, walk hand in hand with other womyn without being looked at strangely, laugh, cry, dance, make love, smile, meet new friends, drink copious amounts of alcohol, not drink any alcohol at all, sit quietly under a tree without being disturbed, sit around a campfire singing songs, learn how to shoot a bow and arrow, and fall asleep to the far off beating of the drums.

And there’s also music.

And hot showers. And healthy meals lovingly served three times a day. And gorgeous smiling womyn everywhere. And love.

Fest is for any woman who has ever been afraid. Fest is for womyn who haven’t yet realized that there is a place that for one week, they can be completely themselves, no matter what that entails. Coming to fest is akin to sinking into the world’s most comfortable armchair, only the arms belong to your sisters and they are there to help you heal from a world that doesn’t want you to have a place of your own.

Fest is about love.

Fest is about love and healing.

Womyn need this place because womyn spend their lives loving and healing others and fest is the place where they can come to be loved, to be healed.

And I love fest. I therefore ask all of the womyn born womyn in my life to consider making it a priority to come to fest just once to experience the love and safety and healing for yourself. You can save fest while saving yourself.

It will change your life. It changed mine.