This is so exciting. I finally get to write and for the most part it’s about me. How fantastic… while talking about all the ways I’m combating my ego I can actually be pretty egoic and just talk about myself. How cool is that?

During the course of this blog, I have no doubt you’ll learn more about who I am and what makes me tick and why I created this game. I figure we’ll get there eventually. For now, I’ll just jump in at today.

I just came back from my first massage in maybe the last six months. I’ve been watching my cash and working really hard… and in the mean time going to a chiropractor to fix what I do to myself daily on the computer. This is the first day in many, many days where I am actually doing something for myself. Yes, I guess running and gardening is for myself and all that but I seem to be constantly doing and never really just being or receiving.

Once you can watch what you’re thinking, you’re kind of cursed (in a good way). Not only is there no excuse for your behavior later, but there’s no way to really ignore the voice that breaks in and says, “BTW- this is what you’re doing. If you were coming from Love, you’d be doing this.” So I’m getting my massage and I’m running through all the exciting things I can do with blogs and thinking about how we’ll build community and what I’ll write and and, and, and … I have to keep forcing myself to remember to be present. I have to keep reminding myself that this time is for me. Someone (this was actually a young guy – perhaps the topic of a whole other blog) is not just touching me, he’s getting paid to make me feel good… And it feels DAMN good -during those few minutes when I can actually concentrate and focus on my breathing and the way it feels to have my feet rubbed by a perfect stranger who just 20 minutes ago was telling me to strip down to what’s comfortable. This is quality me time. Or at least quality fantasy time…

This was the type of massage that in the past would have left me asleep by the time he said, “Take your time to get dressed” and yet I was focused on getting home quick so I could pick up my long, past love of writing and get you something good. But I guess that’s just the thing. It’s not that there’s a certain black and white answer to every situation that says this is coming from Love. For example, is it true that I must be present, receive and be mellow during my massage to come from Love? The truth is, in every situation, it’s really just my response that matters.

In the past, if there were times when my mind was racing, it was racing in circles trying to figure a way out of a mess that most likely had no exit. I was great at creating those. Instead, today I was jazzed. I was pumped and there was nothing even a young boy with massage oil could do to keep me from focusing on my vision. We’re getting close… Shift is coming together and I am more than excited. I think I’m vibrating and I’m actually totally cool with the fact that I just worked straight through my me time. I can’t wait to show you what we’ve got but I’m more excited to see what you’ll bring us. It is going to be stellar… Yep, It is time to Shift…

As I start this tonight, an hour past when I wanted to go to bed, feeling guilty about my puppy who is starring at me, and realizing that curling over a computer is going to hurt in the morning, I have to remind myself why this is worth it.

Shift.

 If I didn’t see shift in my life everyday, I wouldn’t justify the long hours, short glamour, and blind faith that everyone else will see what we see in this adventure…. Zzzzzzz……

I saw “Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants” for the second time tonight.  As much as I’m not “girlie,” don’t commonly have that great of relationships with women, and can’t even seem to sit still for the two hours a movie requires – I enjoy this movie. 

 Going to a movie (about traveling mind you) with your girlfriends who will be traveling all over the world – seemed to be a good idea- especially after a long day of work.  It was the kind of work that I don’t get as excited about – the plug and chug- that don’t get to see the “pretty” results that seem to make me want to push it further. 

 But after I spend an entire day – face to the computer – I spent the entire movie watching the “shifts” that were taking places in these characters lives, which in-turn, happened to be my own.  Lena – the beautiful girl on the Greek adventure, finding herself, was me about two years ago; Bridget – the tall, confident, girl I always wanted to be, secretly fighting a battle inside, I was able to be for moments at a time and then lose her; Carmen – so true to herself while dealing with a father who has found a “better family,” is just like me after I spend some time at home; and Tibby – marching to her own beat, finding wisdom in children, and trying to leave her mark on the world from behind the camera.  That is me.  All of those girls are me at some point or another.

 They all changed their perspectives – shifted if you will – and when they opened themselves up – to love, forgiveness, reality, to feel – they found themselves, within the context of each other and the pants. 

 And then I came home to talk to my boyfriend who was worrying and stressing about life and everything that comes with it – and I found myself telling him to open himself up and to be open to good things happening, or else he is just blocking them.  He didn’t listen, I think he thought I’d gone shift crazy.  But we’ll see.  We opened ourselves to moving forward with this game and now we are working with unbelievable people, and even more excited for the future.  I believe it with all that I am.  You don’t know what you are capable of until you try, you don’t know what possibilities are there until you are open and believe you are worthy.

Am I preachy?  Am I way out there?  Oh well, I’m me. 

Little victories keep me going.

I wore jeans for the second time today; I went for my second walk today; my incisions are almost completely healed; all only two weeks after surgery. 

I could concentrate on the fact that I’m still kind of tired, I get sore if I push it, and that I’m not “better than I’ve ever been.”

But I know if I put my thoughts on negative, I know I will be stuck in this place forever.

 I went home mid-may (to eastern-Iowa) for my boyfriend’s college graduation, expecting to be home for a little over a week – but ended up staying about a month. 

Two days before my trip home I woke up with severe abdominal pains, but because of my stubbornness and lack of doctor-covered-by-insurance-in-Colorado, I did nothing about it.  Instead, I drove home the next day, and went to my pre-scheduled annual exam with my usual doctor.  I told her of the pain and she admitted that my right side felt “a little full,” and scheduled an ultrasound for the next morning.  So after drinking 32 oz. of water before 7 a.m., I laid down on the table, and as the technician placed the “thingy” on my abdomen all my mom and I could hear was her gasp, “well that’s what is causing all that pain!”  A 10-cm. cyst was blocking the view of everything else, and had nestled on top of my right ovary.  I left that morning a little rattled, well a lot, but positive.  My doctor called the next morning to tell me she had scheduled an appointment with a specialist, on the day I was formerly scheduled to go home. So I kept my patience in check, kept the “Advil cocktails” coming, and stayed strong.  Went to the specialist and before I know it, we were scheduling surgery for the next week, going straight to the hospital for chest x-rays and blood work, with a CT scan the next morning.  As we were walking out of my appointment, the doctor looked at me and said, “You are handling this so well…” I turned to him and said, “ well, I’m home with my family, I’m still on my dad’s insurance, and I’m going to feel better than I did before.”  He smiled, patted my shoulder and said, “We are going to take such good care of you.”

The truth is, I was scared, but I believed what I said.  The disheartening part was the fact I signed releases for “worst case scenario” situation – including full hysterectomy – and I wouldn’t know what happened until I woke up. 

I woke up to find that the best had occurred – the surgery was a “success” and was completed through laparoscopy.  They peeled back my ovary, but left it intact.  Three incisions later, one stitch each, they were done.  Apparently, it had been there a while, as it had begun to attach to my insides: my bladder, intestines, and bowls.  Scary. 

I know the only reason I stayed sane, and am doing as well as I am right now was my thoughts.  I took it in stride, one step at a time.  I stayed positive- mainly for the sake of my mother and boyfriend – but in turn, for myself as well. 

I don’t think I’ve ever felt the power of thought the way I did throughout this experience.  I never want to forget the knowledge I’ve gained.  Today as I found myself, once again, getting cranky over my lap top – I stopped and reminded myself that I’m able to sit at the computer and that each thing I finish is one more thing to check off the list.  What doesn’t get done today will get done tomorrow.  What I can’t control will work itself out regardless of if I worry about it or not.  Only positive thoughts can guide my way to where I want to be.

I never thought I would have a blog dedicated to pee.  Urine. Excrement. 

But yup, that’s right.  Here it is.  And it’s driving me crazy.

I have an almost-14-week-old puppy, Jackson.  He’s beautiful.  He’s a Doberman colored Chihuahua, two-and-some-spare-change-pounds, and full of love and happiness…and pee.

Puppies have accidents, that’s normal, but when your boyfriend refers to your dog as a pee factory, it might be a problem.  Today, about 4:30 PM mountain standard time – I lost it.  All of my positive thinking out the window – I had a break down.  I somehow convinced myself that I was a failure as a mother; that despite all of my hours of research on how to raise the perfect dog had failed me, or I had failed it.  Suddenly I wasn’t worthy of even the dog himself, or any of the work I do, or any effort I make. 

So, after an insane conversation with my boyfriend, and even crying over the phone to my mother, I have taken drastic measures – Jackson is restricted to the “bag” (no more plush tub life for him!) and taken out every half-hour and no more Ms. nice guy from me.  I mean business – and preferably outside thank you.

I’ve realized I may not be cut out for single mother life. 

Can a positive attitude help with housetraining a dog?

Naw.

But I suppose it couldn’t hurt.

Today, as I mindlessly scattered tiny seeds, that would someday grow to be huge flowers (!), I couldn’t help but think that seeds are like thoughts.

There’s the tiny thought, the itty-bitty-mustard-seed-type, that you feel are insignificant, “mini thoughts” if you will.  But if you add the right things to them, grow up to be full of flavor, and surprisingly good on a sandwich; essential if you will.   Then there are the mid-size seeds; they are just a mystery.  They could make big or small things happen, as long as you nurture them.   Mid size thoughts, like seeds, can add such beauty to a space; but, without them, life would be plain, though we often overlook the significance.  And then there is the big seeds, the bulbs!  These you don’t grab a handful and gracefully scatter on the ground.  They take preparation, digging, figuring out which end is the top, and most importantly, making sure the rabbits don’t eat them.  Big thoughts tend to be far and few in between, and often require more energy than a simple scatter and letting the wind carry them.  But in the end, when full bloom is achieved, the beauty is worth the work. 

If we care for our thoughts, nurture and encourage them, (and don’t forget to protect them from rabbits!) and plant them firmly in love, they will grow.  They will have a strong foundation to be last and bring beauty to this world. 

I love playing in dirt.  I love flowers.  I love earning my shower at the end of the day. 

Wow, I think I got a lot of sun today!  Whew!

I was looking for a nice quote to send my roommate off to India with and I was looking through my favorite artist, Brian Andreas, quotes and found this one and thought it applied: "feels like some kind of ride but it’s turning out just to be life going absolutely perfectly…" I look at all of the ups and downs and inbetweens we’ve been through lately and cant help but stop at that and smile. We are doing what we are doing for a reason. And we may be going crazy, but it’s for a purpose and a greater good I believe. So apparently life is going perfectly…

I always thought I’d be part of something bigger than myself.

I always thought I’d be out saving the world

I always thought I’d be the one going to India and purifying water to save a village.

I never thought I’d work behind a computer all day.

I always thought I was going to make a difference.

As my roommate packs her stuff to leave for the unknown of India, I can’t help but think, if you would have asked anyone 4 years ago what I’d be doing after college, Sara and I would have been in opposite places.

But I’ve learned you have to pick and choose your weapons.  Look at what you do best.  And then never stop.  I do what I do well. 

And with my weapon I will make my difference. 

With my weapon I will shift.

I’ve never had good relationships with women.

I have always experienced some sort of betrayal or desertion from my women relationships.  I cherished these relationships, but always left a guard up, just in case, the inevitable happened.

So if you would have told me that I would be spending the past year of my life surrounding myself with the most supportive, intelligent, strong, loyal, amazing women I have ever met, I would have told you that you are crazy.

But it’s true. 

I’m converted.

And have found that if you open yourself to positive relationships of strength and loyalty, they will come to you.

Everything happens for a reason.  The good and bad. 

I think it all goes back to trust.

Trust that we were put here for good.  To do good, give good, and experience good.

I have always thought of myself as a responsible person.  At 22, living half way across the country from what I refer to as my “hometown,” I thought I had taken my life into my own hands and was fine, until now. 

As I’m dealing with moving from Boulder to Denver, working full time, being a “single (Chihuahua) mother,” and balancing work life and social life, I have realized that I may not be handling things as well as I thought I would be able to.

I have always had a parent to help me move my stuff, keep me collected, and remind me that I was still their child.  

I guess life is full of many tests. 

I think I forgot to study. 

As I watched fireworks explode in the sky on the walk home last night, I couldn’t help but think how nice it would be to be with my boyfriend, who happens to be 850 miles away.

After my May graduation, I could have packed up my life and moved to be with him; which is what everyone expected me to do.  “Of course you’ll end up at home!” they said.

But after spending my impressionable teenage years living with a divorced mother, I had one thing engraved in my brain: live your own life.  If you can’t be happy by yourself, you’ll never be happy with anyone else.  And with many of the other messages I had bombarding me from my parents, that one stuck. 

 So I’m here, building my own life, while trying to keep myself connected to Chris.  Some days it feels impossible, being in two places at once, living two lives, being a superwoman.  But at the end of most days, it feels so right.  

From: "Kristen Werning”

To: “Nicole Casanova”

Subject: RE: i’m being mean….

Date: Wed, 13 Jul 2005 16:58:11 -0700

 nikki-

after i got off the phone with you , i’ve been thinking about you all day.

your sister is clearly making statements that she know will hurt, no buffer zone involved.  so there’s a choice - either accept it or not.

it reminds me of a quote i’ve taken to heart, that goes something to extent of "we must surround ourselves with those that love and support us.  who know us and love us anyway…"

i know i’m not your sister, and i’m not family, but i’m always here.  i’m glad you are open to talk to me about this.

i think right now, i know you better than most people, or at least understand you better than most could. i know that you are doing good things.  i also know that you have entirely too much on your plate right now.  i know this will all be worth it.  and when we are helping people and changing lives, one of them will write your sister a letter saying she is thankful you stuck with it.

we are here for a reason bigger than ourselves and bigger than our families, than our personal bubbles.  we’re here to do good.

thinking good thoughts for you–  love, k

Oh I have to write.  This is so incredibly hard.  So we’re doing our first blind play test and it’s with my boyfriend’s friends.  No one has seen what I’m working on and I’m basically putting myself out there big time.  His friends are fantastic… yet they’re just not really the target market and that’s why it will be so great to get their feedback… because it will be honest and surely, critical.  This is a group of hard core climbers- some the best in the world. These are people that will not see a doctor when they fall 100 feet and shatter their ankle because they believe they can walk it off.  As a rule, they don’t do anything preventative.  And I’m making them play a self help game. 

I think they thought they were coming over for dinner and beers, not self exploration… It’s possible they want to kill me for wasting their Tuesday night but I’m safe in his room.

However, when it comes to a group of people that know themselves, they actually really do. I don’t know too many sports that are more dependent on mind control than climbing.  These are people that make themselves believe that they can do something. At times they have to convince themselves that they are superhuman just to make it to the next hold. Unlike my decisions, theirs come with pretty severe consequences. Basically they either believe it or they take the pain.

So, I’m in another room and unfortunately, I can actually hear them as they play.  This is our first of 15 blind play tests where we are looking to see if people can play based on the way the rules are set up. We’ve probably tested 70 plus times over the last 3 years but I was present at every one and although it would be fun to play with everyone, it’s not possible for me to facilitate every game.  We are video taping (I think they thought I was crazy when I made them sign a release) and although I’ll see all this later… I’m sitting in the next room hearing their experience.  Uggh.

It is so incredibly hard to pull my identity out of the game.  Although this is in some ways my baby and I’ve been pregnant for a long, long time, I need to disassociate myself from it.  My boyfriend’s friends don’t really know me and they might be hating this game, but I must remind myself, it doesn’t mean they think I suck or hate me…  Or even if they go home tonight judging me saying- “dude, what do you think of his girl? Kind of out there, huh?” it doesn’t mean that that’s my truth.

I’m actually quite proud of my willingness to hear criticism and have been amazed at how when I’ve played the game in life things have cruised.  Last September I went to San Francisco to play with “the peeps” (these are the people I used to study A Course in Miracles with).  These are people that have explored all the Universal principles and have spent the last many years of their lives doing their best to walk their talk. 

Last September the game was incredibly complex. It had been incredibly complex for the better part of two years because we had the coolest game dynamics.  Problem was, they were so cool that no one could figure them out. So I walked in to play test with the Peeps and the first thing they said was, “Where’s the Love and the Fear?”  I had spent forever trying to come up with language that didn’t offend people. I had had so much resistance to those two words, Love and Fear, that I had done everything from look into Kanji symbols to try and make up new words to make them less threatening.  Eventually I settled on the state of Oh No! and Oh Yeah!.

My peeps pointed out the fallacy in my thinking.  I had said the following, “Love and Fear are too threatening. I want to trick people into having the experience of witnessing their thoughts and seeing that they create their reality. To do that, I need to dumb it down so the masses can have an experience of it too.”  Whew, they set me straight!

It was perfect. They said quite succinctly, “Spirit need not trick anyone.”  They said, “Create it in its highest form and it will attract on its own merit.” I actually cried during that play test and since September, we have designed an entirely new game whose objective is to move from Fear to Love… Everything is different- the game dynamics, the look and feel, the language… everything.

Just walked out there for a sec cause the tape stopped and someone said, “Hey let’s play Scrabble.”  My little ego wants to keep me locked away in here all night and not ask them to fill out their evaluation forms.  I know the game is not for everyone…and as I told Kristen the other day when she asked if I thought Shift would save the world, my hope is that Shift gets one person to think differently.  And when I think of it that way, it seems totally doable. If just one person plays and starts to see how they’re thinking… or sees they’re coming from Fear and decides to see the situation differently, then we’ve succeeded.  So tonight I’ll keep with that thought and remind myself that even if this isn’t their deal… they’ve been laughing all night… and for that I am relieved…aaahhh… 

First thing I did today was see my Oprah magazine and the issue was all about creating time for you.  So, I decided not to get on my computer before brushing my teeth. I decided that I’d actually go for a run and show up late for work.  I am the boss. 

I went to this trail that I’ve passed numerous times and always wondered about. Thought I’d do some exploration today.  It was gorgeous.  It’s been in the 90s here in Boulder so this morning we were probably well into the 80s already but, as a Miami girl, it felt positively luxurious given there was no humidity. If you haven’t been informed, Boulder is always ranked one of the top places to live, because of its insane landscape and the wealth of activities that landscape provides.  

This path started off along Boulder Creek. I never realized it went this far East.  It was wide and flowing here and the path was sheltered with a canopy of old Cottonwoods.  I find I’m always curious about what’s around the next bend.  Because of that, I’ve been assumed missing because it’s very easy for me to spend hours walking by myself without a thought of turning back. 

Every turn on this path revealed a more compelling landscape.  Turns out I was in a wetlands area that I didn’t know existed. So, I’m walking alone- no one on the path my entire walk- with ponds, large ponds with egrets and such, on either side of me and straight ahead I’m looking at the Continental Divide.  At other turns the picture looks like this, lake, and behind said lake, epic 2000 ft. rock formations, the Flatirons… or turn again and another lush lake with the white-capped peaks of Long’s Peak in the distance.  I may need to attach pics at a later date to give you some understanding of what I just experienced. 

And, all I could think as I walked and took in my surreal surroundings was, “I walk in gratitude.  I walk in gratitude.  Love is the way I walk in gratitude.”  What a way to start my day.  I am so thankful to be here, in this life, in Boulder, living my dream, making my vision a reality and surrounded by so much love and beauty.  Life is good. 

Ha!  My lack mentality permeates everything.  I think I’ve really got this abundance thing down. I trust that the universe will provide all for me… oh yeah…  But do I really?  I noticed the razor I was using at my boyfriend’s house today.  I can’t remember when I thought it cool to bring my stuff to his house, perhaps 9 months ago?  Who knows.  What’s crazy is, I’ve been using that same razor for 9 months- the same DISPOSABLE razor. Wondering at what point I’ll feel satisfied with its use and grant myself the luxury of buying a new one.  ABUNDANCE NIKKI…

What else? I am consistent at being inconsistent.  You can see this in my blog posts. The things I need to do daily I do somewhat less often.  I’m really good at attempting to be consistent and I can be pretty right on for a month or so and then I slack.  I’m a slacker. The last time I quit smoking ( I actually did this pretty infrequently except when I drank) was last year when I realized that since I had quit for others before, I should be able to quit for myself. Fortunately, that actually took and I haven’t had more than 3 cigarettes since. I get excited to get back into the groove and take my vitamins, floss my teeth, lay in traction (to put a curve back in my neck), read the Course in Miracles everyday, do my Yoga, train the dog,  and it seems that the thing I’m best at is chnage.

Well, change is good and change is the only constant. For now, that’s where I’m at. And, as I see more and more how consistently doing certain things makes me feel better, that positive feedbcak mechanism will hopefully work its magic. I see it creaping in. I know how good it feels to get on my yoga mat and the length of time I keep at my practice seems to be increasing. 

It is what it is until I’m ready to change it.

Being aware of what I’m doing and why I’m doing it is at times humorous and at other times frustrating.  It’s frustrating when I know I’m being ridiculous and I can’t stop. I just plain want to be a shit. My boyfriend ( I have judgment about the word fiancé- it sounds a bit obnoxious to me or perhaps I’m still getting comfortable with receiving) came over and every word out of my mouth was a problem.  As one of my old therapists would have called it, I was creating “double binds.”  Everything sucked and there were no answers. I was hot (it’s been in the 90s in Boulder and I have no air conditioning), I was annoyed that I had filled in all the fields I could on this form to do a 1stopmove (I’m moving in with him next month to live in sin much to my Italian father’s dismay), and the page kept getting an error every time I pressed submit, I was sick of not being able to breathe out of my nose because of my new allergy problem… who knows, I just decided in that moment when he came home to take out all of my hot frustration on him. 

            I didn’t want to go with him to his house, I didn’t want to stay at mine, I wasn’t hungry but we should eat the leftovers, I didn’t want to watch that basketball game again but I wanted to spend time with him, I didn’t want to pack up my computer but I was sick of working in my stuffy place… you get the picture.  All I offered were problems with no solutions.  About 15 minutes in, when he was about to leave, I decided that this was really my only night this week that I’d get to see him and my going in circles and wasting the little time we had with being a brat wasn’t worth it.  So, now I’m at his house and we’re doing one of the things I didn’t really want to do- I’m working and he’s watching the NBA finals and we’ve spoken during the commercials.  But that’s pretty much what’s up tonight and it’s the decision I made and I’m getting to write and we, although not really involved in intimate pursuits are, at least, sharing the same airspace. 

           It’s ok- 4:15 left on the clock, someone’s gonna win and my battery is waning. Perfect timing.

Wondering if it’s better to be truthful and actually show you when I can’t get to my blog.  So, picking up where I left off on Thursday.  I’ve been pussyfooting around getting funding for a few weeks now. I have tried my hardest to get Shift up and running using only my own money.  And now, as we get ready to go to print in August, it looks like I will need to get some outside funding.  I’m seeing that this week, I am acting like my old self, The Independent. 

The truth is, I don’t want to ask for money. I like being autonomous. I like not having anyone tell me what to do.  And, since I picked up the belief that, “there’s nobody there for you and people will always let you down,” I worked hard at counting on only me. In the past I’d rather do things the hard way than ever ask for help. I was the girl that would rather work her ass off to buy a $1300 Ford Festiva than ask her mom to help her buy a new car. I was the girlfriend that couldn’t ask her boyfriend to get that bowl high up on the tippy top shelf because I’d show some sign of weakness. That boyfriend taught me that men actually like doing things for women. (Did you know this?) They like feeling needed and being able to solve a problem. I found that being Sinatra and doing things “my way” was lonely and difficult. My limiting belief that “no one will ever support you” was plain old exhausting.

In recent years, I’ve learned how to make requests.  More importantly, I’ve learned how to receive. Of course, this is a process. I’m now much more comfortable asking for what I need instead of being resentful that I’m not dating a mind reader.  I’ve grown a willingness to receive and it is incredible what has shown up. Kristen, our Creative Director (really our Sparkplug), showed up the exact day that my other employee quit and picked up all of his to dos for that week. We never missed a beat. Charlotta, our artist, has been working for years on this project without a dime with the exception of a few good meals, solely because she believes in it. When I come to town, my friends treat me like I’m their daughter home from college and opportunities that make me incredulous that I’ve been given this life to live show up constantly.  It is amazing how the universe blessed me once I was willing to receive.

But, you know we keep getting our lessons till we REALLY get them. I’ve fallen back into The Independent lately. I have been trying to come up with every alternative so I don’t have to ask my friends and family for money. I’m not looking for venture or angel investments because of that whole independent thing and because we really only need a minimal amount of cash to keep us afloat before we have insanely huge profits. (I like speaking in the positive).  Instead of asking for hard cold cash, I’m trying to be a good entrepreneur and American by overextending myself with credit card debt!

What’s interesting is that, even though I dialed for dollars as a successful salesperson, I’m finding that I’m having a hard time detaching my identity from this product and actually making the call.  What keeps coming up is that old stupid Unlovable core belief that says, “If you loved me, you would…”  I guess what my ego is hearing is that if people can’t cough up a few grand that their not tied to, then, they must not love me.  How stupid is that? I’ve had friends tell me, Nikki, everyone that gives you money will do it not because they think they’re going to get rich on this investment, but because they believe in you. See how it might be hard to detach? What if I let them down?

Actually, I’m not really that tied to how they respond because I’m quite sure we’ll get the money somehow.  That’s not the hard part. It’s making that request and believing that I’m worth it that sometimes trips me up.  I think the phrase low self esteem gets misinterpreted and used too often.  There’s so much more to what low self-esteem means. It meant, for me, unraveling a lifetime of conditioning and convincing myself, even if I wasn’t taught it or told it, that I really was loved… that I really was “worth it.”  No matter what the outcome is. No matter if there’s a big fat check with my name on it or a simple no thanks… no matter if I’m healthy or wealthy or pretty or tan or if I’m hurting because I had to choose something for myself that might have hurt someone else.  It’s knowing that I am loved, always and unconditionally – that’s what self worth is.

 So, I will remember what I am, Love. And, in the meantime, I’ll continue going through my list of potential investors and making requests. Anyone interested in signing on the line that is dotted?

So, I’m at my favorite fresh grains and although I’m trying to do my best to ignore them, there are no less than 50 people on broadway carrying 8 ft graphic anti-abortion signs. I wonder about the percentage of woman that actually do get abortions in a place like Boulder versus somewhere more conservative.  Guess they chose Boulder because our liberal ideals condone the right to choice.

So it has me thinking and I guess that’s their intention. My first thoughts were that this is an all out attack on Boulder.  Every corner for 6 blocks had people and signs. I immediately went to judgment because I believe that no one can decide what works for someone else.  And a few seconds later, I thought, "THANK GOD! I live in a country where if people want to carry 8ft signs expressing their opinion, they can."  I think that for everyone, their beliefs are their truth.  Their opinion might be very different than mine, but our beliefs are real for for each of us.  This game is an expression of what I believe and some people might feel equally offended that I’m implying what I think works best.

Another, super fantastic thing I saw (they’re everywhere… it’s work not to look out the windows and type) were a few locals with their coffees having a discussion with the sign holders.  How fantastic!  They weren’t beating them with sticks they were talking about what they each believed. It didn’t matter whose vision was better.  Instead of seeing anger and upset, I saw two groups in discussion, communicating and sharing.  I no longer saw the graphic images.  I saw connection when most likely, there would have been none.

Some thoughts for today.

It’s early (well, for me anyway) Wednesday morning and I feel that I suddenly have had things put back into perspective for me.

I find myself desperately wanting to check my email, do research, GET WORK DONE, and it seems wherever I go, I can’t connect to the internet…

So now I’m searching for work that I can do without the magical World Wide Web – and realizing that it does exist, and also, that it does tend to be what gets put off.

And all I keep thinking about is Nikki, arriving in San Francisco this morning, with entirely too much weight on her shoulders, trying to secure shift’s future in less than 48 hours.  Sometimes it’s hard for me to not be there with her and to experience it myself, when I feel more than ever, that shift has become my baby as well.

Well, not that I’m a control freak, but I am.  And I remind myself that everything in life, the easy and difficult alike, happens for a reason.  And this is me, letting something I have invested my life into, my future into, go.  It was Nicole’s to begin with, and it will be hers in the end, but in between, I’ll hang on tight and call it mine as well.

Odd as this sounds, I find myself distracted in this café.  I’m surrounded by middle-age white women, spending their weekday morning chatting and gossiping on the latest thing in the community or drama with the kids…  and they are all mothers of people I not only went to elementary school with, but then continued on through graduating high school.

I keep staring at them as the women who came to my elementary school classrooms and put on Halloween parties and end of the year celebrations.  And just as a I feel I’ve grown up, gotten a job (hey, I have business cards!) and really done something with my life, I find myself back in 1st grade, feeling lost, confused, and somehow strangely craving a chocolate milk…. 

I’m at a loss of words. 

And then my phone rings…

Riley.

Its funny how hearing someone’s voice can bring you right back to another place and another time.  Riley has proved himself to be one of the best friends I’ll ever have.  He has annoying things about him (riley time, inviting the world, no commitment, etc.)  and I know I annoy him – but we have an amazing ability to look past and love as friends.

“You’re so lucky you have a job…” he says.  “Everyone keeps asking me what I’m doing with myself now that I’ve graduated, and I’ve started just making things up.  Sometimes I think it would be easier if I just had an answer.”

“I used to tell people I was going to save the world,” I tell him.  “When they ask me how, I just smile and tell them I haven’t figured out the details.  They look confused, but stop asking questions.”

“I’ll have to try that,” Riley answers with a laugh.

It seems after graduation we all have moved on and moved away.  We have found our own direction (or lack there of…) and are making our own lives, despite the family we formed at school.  I knew it would happen. 

But as I find myself instantly re-connecting, I feel warm and happy and not sitting on my mom’s family room sofa, with a computer on my lap, staring out the window…

I think I took a voice vacation.