A few days ago, I was running down the path near my house. Running consistently this winter has been a struggle for me and I am determined to get back on track (my tight jeans and higher numbers on the scale have been quite the incentive). The problem is I am somewhat impatient….okay….I am VERY impatient and I tend to push myself too hard and then pay for it days later.
As I was running, I was getting all of the aches and pains that come from non-use - - my knee started hurting, then my shin, then my big toe, then my pinky toe, then my hip….you get the picture…..all at mile 1. I kept telling myself to just push through….keep going……keep running….one foot in front of the other. My shoulders started to sag and my mind was getting off track. My run was turning more into a shuffle of sorts….trudgery…..hell.
Now I am ALL about pushing myself through the hard times, but I was worried that I would end up injured and not be able to run for a few weeks….so I simply stopped running and began walking. The tape in my head began playing right on cue, “Becky, you need to run…..Becky, you are wimping out…..Becky, you will never get back in shape this way….Becky, you are a total loser…” Remembering my mantra of meditating on all that is beautiful, of good report, noble, and praiseworthy……I turned my thoughts to the positive and told myself that it was okay…that I would run tomorrow…or the next day. I reminded myself getting back on track would take time and there was nobody on the running path judging me….. (although I swear that somehow people are keeping tallies on my running habits as they drive by….but that is subject to another blog and possibly some heavy professional analysis)….
So….walking down the path, I shuffled the songs in my iPod to find something fun. Lo and behold, I felt like running again! My feet were light, my pace was good and no aches and pains. The Reset Button was hit. In allowing myself to regroup, I set myself up for success. In stopping my negative momentum, I was able to direct my energy positively. In the words of my horse trainer, “You can’t go through a pile of manure and come out smelling like a rose.” His point was when things are just falling apart, don’t keep moving in that direction because you feel like to you have to go through it……stop for a moment, regroup and then resume - get out of the mire and onto success.
As I ran back to the house, I thought of how important the Reset Button has been in my survival of divorce. Being able to be in the midst of an emotional crisis and allowing myself to stop and regroup has kept me emotionally healthy. By allowing myself to emotionally stop, I have been able to gain perspective on situations - to look at them with new eyes. When I charge through and become emotionally reactive things fall apart.
So Divorced Diva’s Rule number 3: When you feel overwhelmed, stop - - hit the reset button - find a killer song on your iPod, and start again at your own pace. That way you’ll end up smelling like a rose instead of the other alternative......
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
My Realtor Video Introduction
It's been a busy, busy week here at the Dream Home Company, Realtors! I received the finished version of my video profile created by Dave Anderson at Pinpoint Multimedia. Creating the video was a lot of fun - - I had several out-takes which I am sure will come to haunt me at some point in time.... :)
Video Profile
Enjoy!
Video Profile
Enjoy!
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Bunny Hills and Karaoke Songs
Fear is a curious thing….it can paralyze…it can motivate….it can damage…it can even inspire. The last few years, my mantra has been “don’t act out of fear - don’t decide out of fear - be proactive - have faith.” Fear causes me to act in the most irrational ways…..
Case in point:
When I first moved to Indiana in the early 1990’s, my (then) hubbie took me skiing in Michigan. I had never seen that much snow in my life…..I had never worn so many layers…giant gloves and goggles…and snow pants. I felt as if I were going to walk on the moon….the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man had nothing on me……
I took the obligatory ski lesson (which I was grateful) and set out for the bunny hill armed with the knowledge that if I fell, I knew how to get up. My (then) hubbie was off skiing the expert slopes and had pretty much left me to my own devices. There I was standing at the foot of the bunny hill….walking awkwardly in skis….looking around……and trying desperately not to look like a big ski-dork.
Looking to my left, I saw the tow rope the skiers used to get to the top of the hill. In my usual take charge fashion, I confidently trodded over to the moving rope and grabbed a hold----SPLAT! There I was…face-first in the snow…skis entangled…body flattened…..rolling around in the snow next to the tow rope trying to get my Stay Puff Marshmallow Man-self up….Wow….that was embarrassing!! I moved away from the rope and watched the bunny hill novices miraculously grab onto the rope and be ushered to the top…..oooohhh….they bent their knees and set back a little. A little more skeptical this time, I plodded back to the rope…this time armed with a little more knowledge. I bent my knees, grabbed onto the rope and was ushered to the top. Now this wasn’t too bad.
Wow! The hill didn’t look so tall from the bottom. I stood at the edge of the hill precipice…..dang!! Looking around desperately for another way down….I watch and hope for a miracle…..that I could just wiggle my nose and be transported down to the bottom….no such luck. I watch the little kids going down the hill-coming back up-going down-coming back up…..and think, “Becky Pruitt you can do this!!” So there I stand….ready to go 1…2…..2 ½ …..2 ¾ …no……okay…okay…here we go….I stand on the edge ready….poles in hand….determined…..1…2…I can’t…. The people around me must have thought I had lost my mind. This is the bunny hill for goodness sake!! An hour later….as I am still standing on the top of the bunny hill desperately hoping for a miracle…..up there all by myself…..I finally muster the courage to push off the hill and plow my way down. Whew…that wasn’t so bad!! When I got to the bottom, there was the (then) hubbie grabbing my arm telling me now that I had an hour or so practice on the bunny hill, I was ready to tackle the intermediate slope (did I mention that he is now the X….)
Last night, I did the same thing with karaoke. It is a foreign concept to me and for some strange reason (plus some past history…the X was a musician) it scares me to death. I want to be perfect (or at least not suck) and it is one of those things where you actually have to practice and be willing to try and fail. There are so many things out of my control (like the bunny slope) and so many variables. So I stand there looking at the words…trying to sing…but the words just won’t come out. I just can’t commit to sing….I just can’t seem to “go for it…” the risk of failure seems too great. Standing on stage, I try hard as heck to look “cute”….try not to get frustrated…. ….1…2….2 ½ …2 ¾ …. not going to happen……and I look for my escape…. and sit down once again without singing. The funny thing is---I WANTED to sing….desperately…but I just couldn’t.
The question looms……is this what I do when I am afraid?? Do I stand on the top of that hill and become paralyzed with inaction?? Do I second guess…analyze..compare and look for an escape? Am I missing out on the joy in life because I hold back…too scared to push off of the hill and start a journey…..sing a song……take a risk?
Be Brave, Becky….be brave!!
Case in point:
When I first moved to Indiana in the early 1990’s, my (then) hubbie took me skiing in Michigan. I had never seen that much snow in my life…..I had never worn so many layers…giant gloves and goggles…and snow pants. I felt as if I were going to walk on the moon….the Stay Puff Marshmallow Man had nothing on me……
I took the obligatory ski lesson (which I was grateful) and set out for the bunny hill armed with the knowledge that if I fell, I knew how to get up. My (then) hubbie was off skiing the expert slopes and had pretty much left me to my own devices. There I was standing at the foot of the bunny hill….walking awkwardly in skis….looking around……and trying desperately not to look like a big ski-dork.
Looking to my left, I saw the tow rope the skiers used to get to the top of the hill. In my usual take charge fashion, I confidently trodded over to the moving rope and grabbed a hold----SPLAT! There I was…face-first in the snow…skis entangled…body flattened…..rolling around in the snow next to the tow rope trying to get my Stay Puff Marshmallow Man-self up….Wow….that was embarrassing!! I moved away from the rope and watched the bunny hill novices miraculously grab onto the rope and be ushered to the top…..oooohhh….they bent their knees and set back a little. A little more skeptical this time, I plodded back to the rope…this time armed with a little more knowledge. I bent my knees, grabbed onto the rope and was ushered to the top. Now this wasn’t too bad.
Wow! The hill didn’t look so tall from the bottom. I stood at the edge of the hill precipice…..dang!! Looking around desperately for another way down….I watch and hope for a miracle…..that I could just wiggle my nose and be transported down to the bottom….no such luck. I watch the little kids going down the hill-coming back up-going down-coming back up…..and think, “Becky Pruitt you can do this!!” So there I stand….ready to go 1…2…..2 ½ …..2 ¾ …no……okay…okay…here we go….I stand on the edge ready….poles in hand….determined…..1…2…I can’t…. The people around me must have thought I had lost my mind. This is the bunny hill for goodness sake!! An hour later….as I am still standing on the top of the bunny hill desperately hoping for a miracle…..up there all by myself…..I finally muster the courage to push off the hill and plow my way down. Whew…that wasn’t so bad!! When I got to the bottom, there was the (then) hubbie grabbing my arm telling me now that I had an hour or so practice on the bunny hill, I was ready to tackle the intermediate slope (did I mention that he is now the X….)
Last night, I did the same thing with karaoke. It is a foreign concept to me and for some strange reason (plus some past history…the X was a musician) it scares me to death. I want to be perfect (or at least not suck) and it is one of those things where you actually have to practice and be willing to try and fail. There are so many things out of my control (like the bunny slope) and so many variables. So I stand there looking at the words…trying to sing…but the words just won’t come out. I just can’t commit to sing….I just can’t seem to “go for it…” the risk of failure seems too great. Standing on stage, I try hard as heck to look “cute”….try not to get frustrated…. ….1…2….2 ½ …2 ¾ …. not going to happen……and I look for my escape…. and sit down once again without singing. The funny thing is---I WANTED to sing….desperately…but I just couldn’t.
The question looms……is this what I do when I am afraid?? Do I stand on the top of that hill and become paralyzed with inaction?? Do I second guess…analyze..compare and look for an escape? Am I missing out on the joy in life because I hold back…too scared to push off of the hill and start a journey…..sing a song……take a risk?
Be Brave, Becky….be brave!!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
I Won I Won I Won!!!
When Cindy Hartman of Hartman Inventory ran a contest on their blog http://www.hartmaninventoryblog.com/ to win two tickets to the Indiana Flower and Patio Show, I knew I had to enter......and.....drum roll.....I won!!! This is SO exciting to me as I rarely win anything....and I really wanted to go to the Flower and Patio Show...exciting stuff!!!
Here is my contest entry:
Why the Divorced Diva should have the tickets to the Flower and Patio Show
1. Growing up southern, flowers started to bloom in February…..and in Indiana every February and March I get really sad because I see no flowers….and it’s cold….and grey….and cold….and…brown….Getting to see all those flowers will make me happy beyond belief….a happiness I would be more than willing to share with those around me
2. My 40th birthday was 3 days ago….and it would make a nice present….and I DO so love presents!!!
3. It would give me a place to take the new man in my life……did I just say that publicly….yes, a new man……and what better place to test the muster of a man….than spending the day at the Flower and Patio show…..it would be a true act of service…
4. I would be willing to guest blog on your site about it and post a link from my blog to yours……..
5. I will Twitter your praises till the cows come home!
6. My yard is in desperate need of ideas….and now that I have lived there a year…I can now landscape….
7. I will invite you and your hubbie to sit on my deck, have a margarita and look at my garden……..which will be a thing of beauty because I went to the Flower and Patio Show
8. And last but not least…….drum roll……because I desperately need something new to add to my Facebook status!!!!
So now that I have won......I have an official date to the Flower and Patio Show....a true test of the measure of a man....as a matter of fact, Cindy sent me a personal note with the tickets asking me to let her know how the "test" goes.......a day of looking at flowers and decks....hmmmm....stay tuned
Here is my contest entry:
Why the Divorced Diva should have the tickets to the Flower and Patio Show
1. Growing up southern, flowers started to bloom in February…..and in Indiana every February and March I get really sad because I see no flowers….and it’s cold….and grey….and cold….and…brown….Getting to see all those flowers will make me happy beyond belief….a happiness I would be more than willing to share with those around me
2. My 40th birthday was 3 days ago….and it would make a nice present….and I DO so love presents!!!
3. It would give me a place to take the new man in my life……did I just say that publicly….yes, a new man……and what better place to test the muster of a man….than spending the day at the Flower and Patio show…..it would be a true act of service…
4. I would be willing to guest blog on your site about it and post a link from my blog to yours……..
5. I will Twitter your praises till the cows come home!
6. My yard is in desperate need of ideas….and now that I have lived there a year…I can now landscape….
7. I will invite you and your hubbie to sit on my deck, have a margarita and look at my garden……..which will be a thing of beauty because I went to the Flower and Patio Show
8. And last but not least…….drum roll……because I desperately need something new to add to my Facebook status!!!!
So now that I have won......I have an official date to the Flower and Patio Show....a true test of the measure of a man....as a matter of fact, Cindy sent me a personal note with the tickets asking me to let her know how the "test" goes.......a day of looking at flowers and decks....hmmmm....stay tuned
Sunday, March 8, 2009
The Great Tire Change
Yesterday, as I was out showing houses, I noticed that my tire was bulging out at the wall. This was no small bulge, but a giant goose egg - - the tire could blow at any moment. It was late Saturday afternoon and the tire shop I use was not open. Unsure of what to do, I called The Man (my new man, the boyfriend, the guy I am dating….not exactly sure what to call him, so for now, The Man will do...) and asked for his help.
He came to my rescue by driving to my house to change my tire. This was the first time I had even looked at my spare tire in the Audi……after all…..Divas don’t usually change tires…..that’s what we have AAA for. Now, I do say the word usually because I have changed a tire or two in my life…..but I make a much better helper….cheerleader…. supervisor…..question asker……
We take the tire out of its compartment (notice the word “we” which means in actuality that I helped by holding up the compartment lid) and notice it is a beautiful, full-size, brand new tire. I take out the jack and the tire tools (a tire iron and some other questionable piece of metal) and we commence to change the tire…..
Carlito (my powder blue Audi convertible) is pulled into the garage so we have a nice level place to work. The Man proceeds to take off the lug nuts. The end of the tire iron doesn’t fit over them correctly - - apparently they have plastic covers to make the lug nuts all pretty. Try as we might, we could not get them off. I had a brilliant idea….I’ll just Google it!!! The Man was a skeptic….there is no way that Google is going to tell us how to get a lug nut cover off of an Audi tire…..but my Google powers are great and I am anxious to show my new man just how fabulous I am at helping….and ta da… answer found….if you don’t have the super-dooper fancy-schmancy Audi Lug Nut Cover Remover… simple needle nose pliers will do. The question looms…..do I own a pair of needle nosed pliers? A moment of panic hits me……I don’t have all day as I am due to be at a charity dinner in an hour……are we going to have to go to the store?? But then…I remembered my Dad buying me a tool chest and filling it with guy stuff that I never thought I would need…..I remember saying to him, “Daddy, why in the world would I need needle nosed pliers….” I vowed to call him later and thank him!
Lug nut covers are off…….we look at the Audi car jack and attempt to figure it out. Trust me…this is no easy task. There are no instructions (I looked everywhere). It is the most flimsy jack I have ever seen….ever….. When Audi included it, I do believe that they thought no Audi owner in their right mind would EVER change their own tire….so it must be just for show.
We lift the car with the jack (don’t you love that “We” word again).. The Man tries to pull off the tire….and in slow motion….like Jack Bauer….I try to yell “nooooooo”….I saw the jack slipping sideways…..the car moving and then……The Man jerking his hand away and walking off…..oh no…..I hover…..I worry….I look at his hand all scraped up and a bit swollen….and rush him into the kitchen……to wash it and inspect it (don’t ask me….I had to do something…..it worked for my kids….washing their boo boos). This is a critical point in our brand new relationship…..mechanical stuff…frustration…. pain….recipe for disaster…worry…worry..worry…
We head back to the garage to try a second time. (I was worrying that maybe this was not a good idea.) The jack bent, the car fell again…eeek… I went next door to borrow a neighbor’s jack…. The tire eventually got changed, relationship in tact, everyone happy and I made it to my charity event…late but still made it.
Looking back, this was a good thing…..our first “project” together…..the first time we had to resort to Plan B, C, and D….. I asked tons of questions…..made suggestions….and even requested that the jack be placed where it wouldn’t scratch Carlito……and all was well…..there was no clash of egos…..no snippy comments….no frustrating sighs……but then again….we are dating….
I am glad that I asked for his help. That was a big step for me….asking for help…..putting myself out there in spite of my fear of rejection…..my fear that he would be too busy to help……not willing to help……or simply helping out of obligation and resenting every minute of it. It made me feel good that even for something as simple (or not) as a tire change, I was a priority…was special…..was going to be taken care of….and that is a nice feeling.
He came to my rescue by driving to my house to change my tire. This was the first time I had even looked at my spare tire in the Audi……after all…..Divas don’t usually change tires…..that’s what we have AAA for. Now, I do say the word usually because I have changed a tire or two in my life…..but I make a much better helper….cheerleader…. supervisor…..question asker……
We take the tire out of its compartment (notice the word “we” which means in actuality that I helped by holding up the compartment lid) and notice it is a beautiful, full-size, brand new tire. I take out the jack and the tire tools (a tire iron and some other questionable piece of metal) and we commence to change the tire…..
Carlito (my powder blue Audi convertible) is pulled into the garage so we have a nice level place to work. The Man proceeds to take off the lug nuts. The end of the tire iron doesn’t fit over them correctly - - apparently they have plastic covers to make the lug nuts all pretty. Try as we might, we could not get them off. I had a brilliant idea….I’ll just Google it!!! The Man was a skeptic….there is no way that Google is going to tell us how to get a lug nut cover off of an Audi tire…..but my Google powers are great and I am anxious to show my new man just how fabulous I am at helping….and ta da… answer found….if you don’t have the super-dooper fancy-schmancy Audi Lug Nut Cover Remover… simple needle nose pliers will do. The question looms…..do I own a pair of needle nosed pliers? A moment of panic hits me……I don’t have all day as I am due to be at a charity dinner in an hour……are we going to have to go to the store?? But then…I remembered my Dad buying me a tool chest and filling it with guy stuff that I never thought I would need…..I remember saying to him, “Daddy, why in the world would I need needle nosed pliers….” I vowed to call him later and thank him!
Lug nut covers are off…….we look at the Audi car jack and attempt to figure it out. Trust me…this is no easy task. There are no instructions (I looked everywhere). It is the most flimsy jack I have ever seen….ever….. When Audi included it, I do believe that they thought no Audi owner in their right mind would EVER change their own tire….so it must be just for show.
We lift the car with the jack (don’t you love that “We” word again).. The Man tries to pull off the tire….and in slow motion….like Jack Bauer….I try to yell “nooooooo”….I saw the jack slipping sideways…..the car moving and then……The Man jerking his hand away and walking off…..oh no…..I hover…..I worry….I look at his hand all scraped up and a bit swollen….and rush him into the kitchen……to wash it and inspect it (don’t ask me….I had to do something…..it worked for my kids….washing their boo boos). This is a critical point in our brand new relationship…..mechanical stuff…frustration…. pain….recipe for disaster…worry…worry..worry…
We head back to the garage to try a second time. (I was worrying that maybe this was not a good idea.) The jack bent, the car fell again…eeek… I went next door to borrow a neighbor’s jack…. The tire eventually got changed, relationship in tact, everyone happy and I made it to my charity event…late but still made it.
Looking back, this was a good thing…..our first “project” together…..the first time we had to resort to Plan B, C, and D….. I asked tons of questions…..made suggestions….and even requested that the jack be placed where it wouldn’t scratch Carlito……and all was well…..there was no clash of egos…..no snippy comments….no frustrating sighs……but then again….we are dating….
I am glad that I asked for his help. That was a big step for me….asking for help…..putting myself out there in spite of my fear of rejection…..my fear that he would be too busy to help……not willing to help……or simply helping out of obligation and resenting every minute of it. It made me feel good that even for something as simple (or not) as a tire change, I was a priority…was special…..was going to be taken care of….and that is a nice feeling.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Plan B for Beautiful
The last two months have been a bit crazy. It seemed like my family was constantly resorting to Plan B…or C…or D…. It didn’t matter if it was one of my children or myself, the initial crafted plan seemed to completely fall apart. This has been a great source of stress and I found myself looking for relief in the bottom of a box (or two) of Tagalongs as if the last cookie would be wrapped in gold and I would be whisked away to Willie Wonka’s factory to live in chocolate delight forever. But, alas, that was not to be and I had to remind myself that Plan B is an opportunity not an obstacle.
There is something beautiful in a Plan B - in the unexpected twist of events - in looking at a situation anew. The beautiful comes in the results….in the reminder that we do not always get to control our world.
For the last year, I had been planning on spending my 40th birthday in Tahiti. My mantra was, “if I have to turn 40, then it will be somewhere fabulous.” Plan B kicked in when my traveling companion couldn’t get the time off of work and I just couldn’t seem to make myself go alone…. (I can’t go to a restaurant alone…much less a vacation). So as my birthday came closer, I knew I needed to plan something, but just couldn’t decide on what to do. In actuality, I was wallowing and pouting (a field of expertise for me). Last year’s party was such a success, I knew I had to do something…but I didn’t know what. People gave their opinions on where to go and what to do and I tried to find a venue that would make everyone happy…..
Four days before my birthday, I decided to have my party at the same place as last year. It is a great venue…..the Upper Room at the Broad Ripple Steakhouse - - classy place, good DJ, nice owner…..I sent out last minute emails to all my friends…..and wasn’t sure if anyone would show up…. I felt the same trepidation last year…and the same delight as friend after friend greeted me with their smiling faces and birthday wishes. It wasn’t Tahiti….but my Plan B turned into a reminder that I am liked….loved…wanted..- a priority for so many wonderful people. Had I stayed in my pouty, wallowing place I would have never experienced it.
Lesson learned - be open to the unexpected….even if it seems disappointing at first. Allow myself to take a risk….to be vulnerable…..to let people in and to always look for that beautiful place amid uncertain circumstances.
When all was said and done….I realized that I did in fact celebrate my birthday somewhere fabulous……in the company of my friends.
There is something beautiful in a Plan B - in the unexpected twist of events - in looking at a situation anew. The beautiful comes in the results….in the reminder that we do not always get to control our world.
For the last year, I had been planning on spending my 40th birthday in Tahiti. My mantra was, “if I have to turn 40, then it will be somewhere fabulous.” Plan B kicked in when my traveling companion couldn’t get the time off of work and I just couldn’t seem to make myself go alone…. (I can’t go to a restaurant alone…much less a vacation). So as my birthday came closer, I knew I needed to plan something, but just couldn’t decide on what to do. In actuality, I was wallowing and pouting (a field of expertise for me). Last year’s party was such a success, I knew I had to do something…but I didn’t know what. People gave their opinions on where to go and what to do and I tried to find a venue that would make everyone happy…..
Four days before my birthday, I decided to have my party at the same place as last year. It is a great venue…..the Upper Room at the Broad Ripple Steakhouse - - classy place, good DJ, nice owner…..I sent out last minute emails to all my friends…..and wasn’t sure if anyone would show up…. I felt the same trepidation last year…and the same delight as friend after friend greeted me with their smiling faces and birthday wishes. It wasn’t Tahiti….but my Plan B turned into a reminder that I am liked….loved…wanted..- a priority for so many wonderful people. Had I stayed in my pouty, wallowing place I would have never experienced it.
Lesson learned - be open to the unexpected….even if it seems disappointing at first. Allow myself to take a risk….to be vulnerable…..to let people in and to always look for that beautiful place amid uncertain circumstances.
When all was said and done….I realized that I did in fact celebrate my birthday somewhere fabulous……in the company of my friends.
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