A new perspective...

First of all, note to self: Either memorize The Merry Peri password or come up with something easier. Something like, oh I don't know, Why do I keep losing the slip of paper with my password written on it???

Okay, moving on...

Years ago, baseball hero Yogi Berra was quoted as saying, "It's deja vu all over again." Do you remember that? (To be honest, I never actually heard him say that, but I read it once. Somewhere.) Anyway, I always found that comment to be funny. Until recently, though, I had no idea what it meant and no sense of how profound it really was. Then, one day in October, in a fit of organizational zeal, I started cleaning the dumping ground known as our library and found a list of annual goals I'd created in 1993.

Guess what? It was exactly the same as my List of Things To Do Before I'm 50. Sure, I'd accomplished a lot in 14 years, but the big things -- the things I wouldn't want to die without doing -- were still undone.

That was scary.

So, in late October, I made a decision to tackle the biggest To Do: Write a novel. I signed up for National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) and committed to writing a minimum of 50,000 words in November.

I figured this was a good idea because, during the summer, I'd finally accepted that, while I really, really wanted to write a novel, I didn't have a clue of how it was done. My work in progress had a nice first chapter but the rest was a thinly disguised therapy session in which all of the "good" characters were a lot like me and all of the "bad" characters were a lot like, well, everybody else. It had been hard, but I'd dumped the story and read everything about story and structure that I could find. Then I'd written character profiles and done some hard research.

With all that under my belt, I decided to complete a real first draft -- of the whole book -- in November.

But something happened. After 14 years of putting this same desire into the world, the universe wasn't so willing to make things easy. I'll be honest. When I set the goal of completing the first draft in November, I truly felt as though a voice replied, "Yeah, well. Heard that before. If you want it this time, prove it."

I assumed I might have a little writer's block or a few other delays. I had absolutely no idea what was in store.

First, after several years of procrastinating, I got a mammogram on Oct. 29. On Oct. 30, a rather breathless receptionist called and said, "There are some, um, abnormalities. We'd like you to come back. Soon."

The earliest they could see me was Nov. 6. As you can imagine, I didn't get a lot of writing done in the interim. What I did do was agonize about all of the things I wanted to do and all of the chances I'd squandered. I did a lot of bargaining and I made a lot of promises ~~ and I swear, I continued to hear a voice in my head saying, "Prove it. Prove it."

The good news is that on Nov. 6, after another mammogram and two ultrasounds, I was told that I was fine! Yea!!! I figured I'd go home and write. Right?

Well, no.

Here's a brief list of some of the other things that happened in November:

* Someone broke into my car and stole my radio. (Good news: I only paid $69 for it at Car Toys!)
* My dad had a health crisis during cataract surgery.
* My mother, for reasons known only to her, began to dabble in selective anorexia.
* My computer hard drive had a stroke.
* An organization I'd offered to do some volunteer writing for in June decided they needed my help...in November.

There were other things too. I'd guess an average of one calamity every other day.

Prove it. Prove it.

Yeah, right.

Actually, Yeah! Right!

Here's what I learned last month:

1) It is deja vu all over again...until one day it's not.
2) Life is either going to be full of I Wish I Hads or I'm Glad I Dids.
3) A really bad first draft can be edited into a fantastic book. An excellent first chapter means nothing if that's all there is.

This is turning into a very long post, so here's the short story: That first draft? Done! I mean, totally, completely, thoroughly DONE!!! 50,000 words? Yep...and more!

Second draft? Underway...and set to be finished early next month.

Am I glad to have experienced all that happened in November? Uh, no. Not really.

Am I glad that, in the midst of everything, I heard the words, "Prove it! Prove it!"

For sure.

Good things are coming!

"Vision reaches beyond the thing that is, into the conception of what can be."
-- Robert Collier

The Merry Peri is going on hiatus until December 3. There will be exciting news to share when I come back.

See you then!

How much are you carrying?

I was looking for a computer cable the other day. When I couldn't find it in the disaster that is my home office, I asked my husband, SOHM*, if he knew where it might be.

He suggested I look in the storage rooms in our basement. There I found bags (and I do mean lawn-size Hefty bags) full of cables: Computer cables. Camera cables. Scanner cables. Printer cables. Cables to equipment we don't have anymore. Cables to equipment that doesn't work. Cables to equipment made by companies that no longer exist. (Does anyone out there remember the Commodore 64 computer, circa 1980? If you happen to own one, let me know. I've got a cable.)

"Why," I asked SOHM, "do we have all this stuff?"

"Because," he said, never turning from the TV, "you never throw anything away."

Oh. Once I realized it was all my fault I scampered off, grabbed a cookie, retreated to the sanctuary of my all-in-one home office/home spa/dressing room/media room/girlie library/dog zone and turned on my newly cabled PC.

As fate would have it, I found a link to 1000 Days Non-Stop at Sea. For reasons I honestly can't wrap my brain around, Reid Stowe and Soanya Ahmad are trying to set a new sailing record for consecutive days at sea without stopping or resupply.

One thousand days on a little boat with the same person and no diversionary shopping excursions or mind-stabilizing chic flicks? I truly don't get it -- but I do admire their chutzpah.

For a different perspective on lessening your load, read Soanya's August 5th entry. Can you imagine going three months without restocking your refrigerator or pantry -- and then adding only those items you'd stored in other parts of your house? (And yes, this does include toiletries.)

Can you imagine being awestruck by a new supply of dried ziti or beans?

The adventure fairy didn't visit after I read Soanya and Reid's blog, but the declutter genie did pay another call. I may never get to the point of downsizing to the point of these seafaring bloggers, but I am willing to dump more of my rarely used stuff.

Cables, anyone?


*SOHM: Significant Other Hubby Man

Wheeee!

If you've read the past few posts, you know my life had a major hiccup recently.

During the course of two days, I had every work-related experience I've tried my whole life to avoid, and I presented publicly every emotion I've tried my whole life not to show. I got angry. I said what I felt. I was embarrassed. I cried...

And guess what? It didn't kill me.

That was the first indication that something was afoot.

The second occurred this morning. I woke up full of gratitude -- gratitude for my life, my health, my family and my friends. Gratitude for the strength to finally go after what I really want. Gratitude for having, in a world full of turmoil, a day of peace.

The last few days brought change that was unexpected, painful, frightening and disconcerting. Ultimately, though, those days were a gift. The fall was horrible, but the bounce-back? Baby, what a ride!

On iTunes right now: Nothing at all.

Calling Ashley Judd!

If my life were a movie, I'd want to be played by Ashley Judd.

Whenever she plays a woman in distress, she has about fifteen minutes of angst then the music swells, she gets a determined look on her face and Presto! Change-o! she's miraculously reborn. She's spunky. She's focused. She's totally in control.

Now, being portrayed by Ashley Judd is a stretch for many reasons, not the least of which is that the personal orchestra-on-call specializing in my Presto! Change-o! music is apparently on strike. Or hard of hearing. Or just too darn cranky to be bothered these days.

But that's beside the point.

Movies have a way of glossing over in fifteen minutes what can take weeks, months or years to accomplish. Deciding what you want, making the hard, hard choices necessary to get it, taking risks and failing at least some of the time takes time.

One of the little nuggets of animal kingdom trivia stuck in my brain is a fact about birds. Watching them struggle to free themselves from their eggs can be heartbreaking. Some survive. Some don't. Those who do emerge wet, disheveled, bruised and exhausted...but it's that struggle that gives them the strength to live, to grow and to fly.

For everyone out there going through the struggle, I'm pulling for you.

Pull for me.

One day, maybe we'll all be played by Ashley Judd!

Well, now...

Sometimes Ms. Peri is a lot better at offering advice than she is at taking it. And sometimes the universe gives Ms. Peri a huge smackdown, just to get her attention.

A few weeks ago, I realized that I was drifting. I had several writing projects under way, and I was splintered in a dozen different directions. I wasn't focusing on the goals I'd set and more than a few friends advised me to slow down, take a deep breath and force myself to answer the question, "What do you want?"

But I didn't.

Why? Well, because I'm Ms. Peri, and I can do it all. And because if I don't commit, I'll never fail...and Ms. Peri does not like to fail.

Smart move, right?

Apparently the universal powers that be (UPTB) did not agree.

First, they tried a friendly nudge. A local professional organization nominated me for PR person of the year. It was a huge honor but throughout the process I kept hearing a little voice asking, "Is this what you want? Is this it?"

Dealing with those issues was inconvenient and the little voice was a nag, so I blew it off...even though I knew that PR, at least this year, is my bread-and-butter, not my heart and soul.

I didn't decline the nomination, but I didn't fully engage in the process either. I just went with the flow. I didn't commit.

Clearly dissatisfied with that approach, the UPTB opted for a shove.

Today, my job-share arrangement at a local magazine ended without warning. Whoosh! One more item off my plate.

While I was listening to my boss tell my work share partner and me that we were fired, that darn little voice came back and asked, "What do you want? What do you really want?"

Apparently, I am destined to answer this question one way or the other. I'll either suck it up and commit to something or, one by one, my diversions will be waved in my face or be taken away.

Not to bring age into the equation, but I think the UPTB are trying to tell me that I'm too old to be so ambivalent.

Life is interesting, isn't it?

Playing on iTunes right now: Everything by Michael Buble. I LOVE this song!

Hello!

I'm back at my desk after an unplanned mini-vacation.

Quick, surprise getaways are the best kind, aren't they? Even if you return to an overflowing in-basket, tons of email and more than a few to-dos with Urgent! stamped on them -- all of which I did -- it's wonderful to have had a few hours or a few days of calm, peaceful thoughts.

One of the things that always surprises me when I take time off is how quickly I realize how little I actually need. Oh, there are tons of things I want -- but very few I truly, desperately require.

My friend, C., is in the process of moving to Charlotte, NC from Denver. Rather than hire a fleet of moving vans to transport everything, she's selling all but the necessities and she plans to move to her new city feeling light and free.

"I don't want things to have power over me anymore," she said.

Powerful words, aren't they?

This week we'll take a closer look at how clearing out unnecessary thoughts, emotions and possessions can impact the quality of our lives. We'll also have a conversation with Gail Imel, a woman who sold much of what she owned and traveled to South America for a solo adventure that spanned several months.

In the interim, enjoy this photo of Jake demonstrating his favorite activity for the dog days of summer.

Take care!

It's all a journey.

Novelist Kathy Holmes (Real Women Wear Red) has a wonderful series of posts on her blog about the process of going home. In Kathy's case, home is Oregon, the state she moved to at 16.

With the exception of a few years as a transient Air Force brat, I've never lived anywhere but Denver, but Kathy's essays still resonated. I realized why today.

Home can be something other than a physical place. For those of us making an emotional journey, home can be the state of being where we're finally comfortable in our own skin. Perhaps it's reclaiming the wonder and joy we had as children. Perhaps it's achieving the self-acceptance we always wanted and were, often unknowingly, traveling toward.

Whether the home you're searching for is geographic or spiritual, I encourage you to visit Kathy's site. It's great!

Playing on iTunes: Silver Thunderbird by Marc Cohn.

Information comes when you need it.

An old friend contacted me today. We haven't spoken for years but, as the old saying goes, within a few minutes we were talking as though we never lost touch.

We worked together in the 80s and what I remember most is that no one -- and I mean no one -- ever had a bad thing to say about her. She went out of her way to make everyone happy. I entered the workforce wired the same way, but I gotta' tell you, she was a mentor for me. She'd elevated good girliness to an art form, and she taught me well.

We laughed about those days for a while...then she stopped laughing. "To be honest," she said, "the good ol' days weren't all that good."

She left the company in the early 90s, took another job and got downsized, got another job and was merged out, got another job and was laid off, and finally decided to go into business herself. In her 40s.

"It was horrible," she said. "I had no idea how to make decisions or how to state my opinion. I only knew how to make people happy."

She said she almost went broke because she never charged enough. (People liked her better because she was cheap.) She ran herself into the ground because she never challenged deadlines. (People liked her because she never asked for more time.) She got an ulcer because she never rocked the boat. (People liked her because she didn't complain.)

None of this surprised me because she was, after all, the Supreme Goddess of Good Girldom. But I have to admit, I was kinda' curious. So I asked her, as one good girl to another, how she turned things around.

"Badly," she said.

She wasn't joking. The woman with a Rolodex of friends now has one or two to her name. ("But they're real," she said. "I don't have kiss butt for them to like me.") She lost a lot of clients, and it wasn't easy to find more. She had to work hard to rebuild her reputation.

She's still an entrepreneur, but she changed businesses twice before settling on what she wanted to do.

"I had to learn a whole new language," she said. "I was like a baby -- or a stroke victim -- I had to learn to talk again, to walk again. I kept bumping into things and falling down and skinning my knee."

She's happier now. She said the journey was worth it. And when I told her about this blog, she offered advice for those, like me, who are trying to change.

"The scary part isn't when you start. Then the world is full of possibilities. You have a glorious idea of where you're going, and you have no idea how many will go wrong," she said. "And the scary part isn't when you're finished because then you've evolved. You've conquered something. You can look back on what you've done and feel really, really proud.

"The scary part is in the middle, when everything's a mess and you're all unsettled, when people say you're screwing up and nobody likes you and they say you're becoming a royal pain in the ass. That's when you have to remember that no one came into this world perfect. You have accept the fact that, yeah, you probably are screwing up, and a lot of people really don't like you, and you probably are a major pain in the ass.

"And that's okay. Tomorrow you'll do a little better. The key is to just keep keeping on."

Playing on iTunes: Again by Donnie McClurkin. Amazing song; amazing voice.