Category: success

The Secret of Success

So between a shit show and shining success…that is the attitude of what yesterday and today felt like, to which I write with a quick deviation from instruction on learning to live on a higher plane, because I’m not all too sure that what I feel at the moment is actually representative of living on a higher plane. To start, the day of the move to memory care ( and the day of my show) was laden with anxiety, mostly for my sisters who were on site, directing the move right under my mother’s nose (first time I’ve name her as THE family member), and me not being present, because I had committed to participate in an art show, feeling powerless to help in any way. At about an hour before I was done with my first day showing and selling my art, I started getting emergency phone calls dispatched from my mother’s life link button she wears around her neck. I spent the last portion of the show walking back in forth in the parking lot desperately trying to, and and delicately explaining to this company not to dispatch the emergency crew because she was safe at her new memory care facility, and was just unhappy with her circumstances. Finally, in a hysterical laughing, crying way…I just had to tell the truth, that my mother would continue to push this button because it was “her means” to call her husband, Elon Musk to whom he had given her full responsibility to distribute his money, to come and get her. I could hear silence on the other end, and then a choking voice (I knew she was covering up her laughter) that she would transfer me to her supervisor. Once connected, the same funny noise came, when she read the explanation of her underling, and I had to interject and say out loud, that yes, I knew it was crazy, and yes, it was it was ok to laugh…to which she let out the loudest guffaw I have ever heard. Her response: Mam, this is the singular best story I have ever heard in this job (most of the details, I did not share here). She closed the account and even gave me a refund. for the rest of the year…to which the full staff at her new place and my sisters now think I am a rock star (because the staff finally witnessed, first hand, the transformation that we, my siblings, all knew personally that was akin to the most frightening horror story character ever created). In this moment, and I know I’m not being kind and loving unequivocally and I’m OK with that, given how this ordeal unfolded, I am not sorry for it, I released a huge burden. And if God happens to give me a smack of karma, I’m ok with that too. The true heroes of this story are my sisters and the people that have to deal with her now. We all did the best we could for her to honor my dad’s promise and keep her safe, and now realize she has made her bed and well….enough said.

The other side of the last two days is the pride I felt when so many people were amazed and impressed with my art. I received an invitation to display some of my pieces at the new libraries’ artists gallery wall this summer and also met a wonderful gallery owner who is excited to what we can do in the future. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I felt pride at my ability to squelch the fear that started to rise up when I accepted the invitation at the library and also when I told the other gallery owner I would be proud to have her present one or more of my pieces in her space. There was also an artist who saw the piece I did called, “A portrait of an artist at rest” (Wang Yibo), and said that it reminded him of one of Rembrandt’s techniques regarding shading and depth. I absolutely had no fucking idea what he was talking about, and also didn’t tell him that I just acted by the seat of my pants, and simply thought that if I added an iridescent paint to the black it would give the appearance of a velvet background….which means that I guess that the attempt was successful…and even though I didn’t have a clue about anything else that came out of his mouth. I just smiled, like Mona Lisa and shook my head in the affirmative. Also, both my brother, (who came in from Florida) and my youngest sister came up to see me, in leu of seeing my mother and I was so shocked and pleased because my brother had never seen my art in person before. So, as far as I’m concerned at the moment, I am happy that I stood on my own two feet and weathered both storms…my mother and my own fear of success. I still have one more day to show tomorrow, but somehow I already feel like I’ve won and passed the test, because I know my mother is now safe, regardless of how angry she is…and I believe that am really good at what I do, end of story, which leaves me better equipped to live and love on a higher plane.

One quick epilogue that I am amending to this post…I added a picture of a little hedgehog who picked out a piece of jewelry…my favorite customer of the weekend. Also? I have conflicted feelings about a lot of the gushing about my work…often, I didn’t like it at all, because it felt like the focus was on the wrong thing and was often followed by words like I have no talent, or you are so lucky. I wanted them to be moved by the art, or feel encouraged to make their own or use their own gifts. Regardless of how many times I explained that I only started this a few years ago, and didn’t know what I was doing either, that if they felt a passion for it, they should just try. The important part is in the creation…because it changes the individual as well as the environment…most looked at me like I was nuts…and it made me feel sad. I am even more resolute to bring love into the world one piece of art at a time.

Success, the Within and the Without

The above is the first self portrait I did requested by my mentor early on…I updated it a bit, but still kept the rough edges of representing an early work…

I have been dreading this post…circumstantially, it has been physically (although my lungs are finally clearing from the crud), emotionally and materially overwhelming in every regard. And it was within this context that the subject of success, primarily my own, has been hammering in the forefront of my mind (and the incessant chattering of my spirit guide, which more than any other time lately, I even tried to convince myself was a function of my imagination…to no avail). I am a participant in a county wide art show coming up this weekend. That in and of itself is a challenge: finishing pieces, pricing, organization, presentation, packaging, setup utilizing all aspects of advertising and promotion offered to me, etcetera, etcetera all in the context of baring my soul to the general public, many who are perfect strangers, which I find deeply disconcerting. Also, at the same time, the moment came suddenly for “the move” to a safer space for a family member which, being the medical representative, demands my presence in a myriad of ways, from physically approving the space, to the myriad of checks, paperwork and meetings with medical professionals. The move, of course, happens over the same period of time as my show…which fucking sucks, especially since we can’t say anything to her until the last minute. I have to take time off work (the running of our clinic, which also takes a huge chunk of my time) this coming week to join with my sisters and healthcare representatives to break the news just prior to the move and it will not be pretty. Thankfully, I have amazing sisters who have generously given me permission to focus on the show during the actual move and they would do the dirty work, (my son Riley offered to help move the heavy stuff…love you for that, my bebe). They were all so excited to be present with me at this show, but now will sadly be otherwise occupied…leaving me to stand on my own two feet.

The other issue, which is a direct connection to what I described above, were the messages this person hammered into my head from as early as I could remember. Messages like: Don’t shine, you will make everyone else feel bad, Don’t stand out, Don’t be better than, Be quiet, Be invisible, You can’t do that, I won’t allow that, I won’t pay for that, Be this, don’t be that, Who do you think you are, You were built wrong, Respecting me means doing what I say, Being smart is good enough, don’t get greedy, You think you know so much, you’re so arrogant…etc. were axioms that took so much of my time and life to untangle that I was left not only with a skewed view of what my God given talents were, but how I was supposed to use them, actually, of how I am still supposed to use them. This is NOT in any way, shape or form, a mechanism for your pity, that is insulting to me, especially since there are so many others who have risen from more harsh circumstances than mine, It is, however, merely an explanation of how I ended up where I did. As in all our lives, some of the worst points of darkness, offer the greatest opportunities for uncovering a deeper and more beautiful light, and that is how I am trying, amidst great consternation, to look at it. But…as was made clear by all that has been ruminating in my mind and intuition, I still have some dismantling to do with some of the more pervasive messages, namely, it is perfectly acceptable to have been given many different kinds of gifts from God that may make me stand out ahead of the herd and it is time to stop running from them, regardless of how uncomfortable it makes me feel right now. My focus must be on taking the “talents” I’ve been given, like the parable says, and make something of them. I have taken comfort in Teilhard’s definition of success: The slow work of God often involves passing through stages of instability, meaning success requires patience and faith in God’s ultimate plan rather than immediate and measurable results, and how well one acts according to God’s will and participates in the ongoing, creative work of the universe. True success is moving toward a greater awareness of a “higher” state of being where individual spirits converge and unite in love. I have also taken comfort in the words of scripture: love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love. Never. Fails.

I had a sudden and harsh realization amidst all the myriad of emotions this week, that I will never reach a higher state of being, or converge and unite in love unless I face my own fear and worthiness of success. While I cognitively know how capable I am, and talented…I do hide and am comfortable in anonymity, which, according to the parable is tantamount to burying my talents in the ground. (and the very reason this parable has always made me a little sick to my stomach). So, regardless of my natural inclination to be “supportive” rather than be in the lead…it is important, at this point anyway, to prove to myself and “her” that I can be and will be in the forefront of a creative movement, even if only momentary, and that is the lesson at this appointed time. Ironically, the circumstances of the moment only seem to serve as the exact incentive for to me to forge ahead. It is her messages that I bury in the ground, and not my talent…and doing so with just my own two hands and feet seem to be the appropriate way to do so.

Getting your Hands Dirty

getting your hands dirty

Bearing good fruit into the world demands that we get our hands dirty. Creating something from nothing, or building on something to make it better, paving a new road, establishing a novel idea, are never easy or smooth…because life isn’t supposed to be easy or smooth. The dirt under our nails, whether it is metaphorical or actual grime, is a testament to what we are willing to sacrifice to bring something to fruition. When ministry became my chosen profession, God gifted me with many opportunities to get my hands dirty in ways that were humbling and well, sometimes even gross, like unwanted interaction with bodily fluids. Serving Christ demanded I roll up my sleeves and get messy. More than anything, I learned that bearing fruit in a sterile environment is impossible.

I know I’ve said this before in different ways, but you can’t skip the middle of cultivating any dream by bypassing the dirty work. Too much of the final product is predicated on the will, imagination and effort necessary to struggle through mire in order to achieve success. While frustrating, it is perfectly normal for people who are in the middle of any pursuit to wonder if the difficulty will ever end, if it is worth it, if the fruits of labor match the effort and expectation. The road yet traveled can be a daunting proposition. For me, that is why faith is so important to the process. We don’t have to be alone in our pursuits. God is the ultimate safety net, and is ever present even in the muck. And, it is often amidst the muckiest of muck where true revelation lies. Always keeping your hands clean, or the process sterile, kills growth and can mean you miss the best lessons life has to show you. The best fertilizer for the greatest fruit is sometimes noxious. It’s a testament to God’s great sense of humor that shit is one of the greatest ingredients for growth…both literally and figuratively.

So, I say, life is not sterile. Some of the greatest fruits come from mud, even seeing more clearly.

John 9:1-11

“As he passed by he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus answered, “Neither he nor his parents sinned; it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him. We have to do the works of the one who sent me while it is day. Night is coming when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” When he had said this, he spat on the ground and made clay with the saliva, and smeared the clay on his eyes, and said to him, “Go wash in the Pool of Siloam” (which means Sent). So he went and washed, and came back able to see. His neighbors and those who had seen him earlier as a beggar said, “Isn’t this the one who used to sit and beg?” Some said, “It is,” but others said, “No, he just looks like him.” He said, “I am.” So they said to him, “(So) how were your eyes opened?” He replied, “The man called Jesus made clay and anointed my eyes and told me, ‘Go to Siloam and wash.’ So I went there and washed and was able to see.”

The New Road Traveled

dr steve

My husband called me today from a seminar on cutting edge research (8-5 both Saturday and Sunday) because during his lunch break he found out that one of our practice members fulfilled a dream of being drafted by the NFL. Years ago, this particular young man (wonderful man, even when he faced the wrath of Mary…) came into our office with a debilitating injury, a hip dislocation (Bo Jackson) that threatened his future not just in football, but all sports. They told him he may never play again, that he couldn’t put weight on it for at least 6 weeks. Just days later, he walked out of our office and now he is in the NFL (not directly, of course). He was our “first” ARP (accelerated recovery performance) patient, and with his dedication, hard work and faith, he is a testament to overcoming obstacles. I am so happy for him.

But today’s post isn’t about just this young man’s success. It is about all the pieces that fit together that helped him on his journey. I’m sure he can give you a list of all those influential people who stood in his corner that helped him to achieve his dream (I know he has thanked Steve over and over). We should all follow his lead, because as individuals we don’t do enough of that, i.e. recognizing and thanking those who help us in our lives. Not one of us is an island. And not one of us achieves anything on our own. The fruits we bring to the world are a compilation of countless influences, obstacles, opportunities, and benefiting from the fruit of others, many who go unrecognized. So let me take a moment to say a few words about the man who helped him on his way.

Most people don’t realize that Dr Edling is always on the cutting edge of embracing new and innovative approaches to health (which are soooo different than fads). I have never met someone who is as passionate about sustaining, maintaining and forging new roads for optimal health as he is. As an athlete himself, whose life was derailed by an injury, he has worked tirelessly to find ways and technologies so no young athlete has to let go of a dream. Whether it is through constant study, new technologies and going way beyond the call of duty, he is one of those special few who refuses to be defeated and absolutely loves and is committed to his work. No one is more thrilled, save the person themselves, than Dr Edling is when success is achieved and goals are met, and many times even surpassed.

Much of the time, his voice is a solitary one, one that pushes and maintains that change is up to the individual, that it is often a scary and challenging proposition and never an easy pill to swallow. The answers aren’t always easy to find, but he is there, though, every step of the way, through the frustration, sometimes pain, the problem solving and adaption when other questions arise. He has done the work, the study, put in the sacrifice, the investments in the best technologies. Most importantly he is present, available and stands as a partner to everyone who walks in our practice door looking for better health. Whether their needs are structural or metabolic, he gives 100%.

He may be a little embarrassed by this post. He never toots his own horn, so I will…only because the gift of his fruit, is making dreams possible for others, and that makes me proud. I see his enthusiasm for innovation, selflessness and commitment in our sons too, so that I’m confident the gift of his fruit will continue, and that also makes me proud.