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No Limit, Bishes

We all want to go to that part in out lives that we believe anything is possible. As a child, you thought you could be superman if you worked hard enough and anything from flying to the moon to playing in the NBA was possible. The era of imagination and endless possibilities would keep you from sleeping, excited at what the future might bring.

As you get older, your imagination dwindles into daydreams and your mind tells you that you can’t achieve those goals because your life, kids, finances, are standing in the way of your dreams. You are so busy trying to catch up or break even, that many of those dreams become just that- dreams instead of reality.

Now, I can’t speak for you, but my whole life has been someone imposing their limiting beliefs on me. My high school counselor told me he didn’t think I would graduate high school. My grandfather told me the US Army was no place for a woman. People closest to me told me I couldn’t raise a child and pursue higher education…or quit smoking…or take a new job…or start a business…or start a new skill late in life.

How will you manage all that responsibility? How will you raise your children? You’re too old to learn something that physical. How can you afford to do that? How can you give up meat? How will you feed your children? What if? What if?

I swear, motherfuckers are all in your shit, giving a flying fuck when you’re about to try something new. Maybe these people are strangers, more often these are people close to you, that you know intimately. They genuinely care about your future. And this is where it hits the fan- you listen to their limiting beliefs and you start to believe them. Their opinions help to mold the future decisions you make. You say shit to yourself like, “Maybe (he/she) is right. Maybe I am too young/old/broke/busy to take this on.” And then, BOOM, you stay in the same place and you don’t chase that dream because you let SOMEONE ELSE’S belief limit YOURSELF. And you do it because you think that this person knows you so well that they must see something in you spells failure- and then you believe them!

Why do we condition ourselves to do this? Because we want to conform? We don’t want to intimidate others with grand ideas of success and growth? Should we stay in the small pond because that’s where our tribe is and it’s more important to stay put and be a part of something than it is to jump into a bigger pond alone? Maybe it’s easier to listen to the criticisms and focus on all the things that can go wrong instead of focusing on how it could go right.

Now, riddle me this. When someone talks poorly to you and cuts you down, bullies you, and does something mean, we all know that this is a reflection of the other person and what they are going through and has nothing to do with you. This is kind of a no-brainer because people that are trying to tear you down are not usually the people in your tribe, so it’s easier to disassociate yourself from this because you don’t have the intimate relationship and you brush off haters because they don’t know you on a personal level.

But what about when people in your tribe advise you against chasing those dreams and goals? You think that they are giving advise from a loving place, but you fail to see that they are imposing their own limitations on YOU! It’s the exact same thing as the haters cutting you down. But because you have something more invested and they do know you personally, you take heed to their advise. BUT IT IS THE SAME THING! Even though it may be disguised as coming from a place of love and care, these are simply someone else’s limiting beliefs and it’s up to YOU to decide if you will take those beliefs on.

Now, the high school counselor telling me he didn’t think I would graduate high school was too easy to shake off. That man didn’t know me personally and he obviously has issues, going about telling his student body that he doesn’t believe in them is deplorable for an educator, but thank you Mr. Johnson! You were the first of many lessons!

I wish all of the naysayers were this easy to identify- too many of them were close and personal and it’s taken me awhile to figure out how to work past them, but I understand now why they say to keep your goals to yourself until you can put them into action- this affords you the opportunity to grind hard in peace and surprise them all!

Sometimes, things aren’t so black and white and you can’t work in isolation.

Most recently, I have decided to take on capoeira. Have you seen this shit? Acrobatic dance fighting with singing and instruments. It’s fucking beautiful. But, it’s not for the fair weather fan and many capoeiristas start training at a very young age or come in with some other previous experience in gymnastics or advanced movement. And then there’s me. 37 years old, no sports background, and jumping into this sport with an already full plate of children, school, etc. How will I have time to train? My mom expresses concern because she fears if I get injured, I will be unable to work. Even my own mestre (capoeira teacher) mentioned in class one day that “you can’t pick up this game at my age”, without realizing that I was, indeed, his age. Another person that I train with, mentioned the criticism of another mestre that suggested that same thing, “You can’t start capoeira this late in life and ever be any good”. Although none of these comments were directed at me specifically, they have been burning in my brain. Actually, they are fueling my fire. No one gets to determine my trajectory. No one gets to determine what the fuck I will be good at. So every time I think of the limiting beliefs set before me, I remind myself, CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.

There will be times when you want to believe the bullshit others whisper in your ear, but I challenge you to remind yourself that these concerns, criticisms, feedback are merely a reflection on how the speaker feels in their own shoes. Their words are a reflection of themselves and this isn’t inherently bad- maybe this risk you take isn’t one that would be well suited for them- that’s why they aren’t doing it- YOU ARE. So, take the comments and opinions in stride and go after all you desire.

May this year provide for you 20/20 vision so you can own your own path!

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Does anyone know WTF they are doing?

A lot of my friends and many of my clients tell me that I am funny and should start a podcast…but I don’t listen to podcasts (nor do I read blogs), so I keep hitting a wall when thinking about how to start one of these things? My girlfriend gave me some advise- just start. Do a little something every day, so here goes.

As the year comes to a close (more specifically, another DECADE), I ponder what the hell I am doing with my life and if it will ever amount to anything. I am sure that I am not alone in this fact- we are all out here trying to be out best selves so that when we die, people say nice things about us and hopefully we are successful enough to leave some kind of legacy for our families.

It’s been about 2 years since my departure from the tech and corporate structured world and I am not sure that I can say I am in a better place. Financially, I most certainly am not. Becoming an entrepreneur sounded like a great idea, but as I review my year and (lack of) savings, I can’t help but feel I made a big mistake. I am totally more available for my children, which is great. I have the luxury of being able to cook for them and attend their events – shit, I am leading a book club at school next week. But book club leaders don’t pay dividends and the worry is starting to settle in the back of my brain, reminding me we are one swift kick away from a less fortunate life.

I am in the final stretch of graduate school. Two more classes and a capstone and I will have to figure out how to apply this degree to life and make some money off it. I should be working on that plan but here I am blogging… my multi-tasking obviously needs some work.

I am curious though- there are people out there that can tell you exactly where they want to be in five years and once five years pass, they do exactly as they have planned. They work the job, get the promotion, make the family, buy the house- all a part of the plan.

I am definitely not one of those people. Life throws so many curveballs, it seems ridiculous to even try to create a plan. I more or less believe that you can have your goals, work towards them, but have to be flexible with the process. Not every ball you hit will be a homerun and sometimes you are going to miss the base and have to try a new strategy.

I thought I would stay in tech, finish that MBA and make shit loads of money. At some point, I realized I was living someone else’s dream. Tech doesn’t excite me. I wanted to do the “right” thing and create a comfortable life for my kids. At some point, I realized that the “right” thing was costing me my happiness, even though we were financially comfortable.

I know that the best way to support my children would be for me to be happy and show them that we do not need money to be happy- which is exactly how we have been living for the past two years. And if you ask my girls, they can attest to the fact that mom is more happy, we still live comfortably (with less stamps in out passports) but they eat well and have a mother who is more present. Not every day is perfect and I am sure they see day-to-day that I am more mindful with how I spend money, but I think that we have built a stronger family dynamic and hence why this site is called “Raggedy Riches” because we may be broke but we still have wealth.

So, for all of you that are wondering what my plans are for 2020 and what I will be when I finish my education, all I have to say is, “It’s a surprise”

What’s really going on

Pinch me, please. I have no idea if I am awake or not. Rona has us all spinning a bit, right? I can’t figure out what I should be spending my time on. After getting on my kids’ case for schoolwork, chores, and fitness, I emotionally lack the capacity to take on any more challenges. So, I am not part of the social media madness where people are showing off their perfect workout routines and accomplished home improvement projects. I am fucking exhausted and would like to finish the book I have been trying to read for a month.

I am learning to be more kind to myself. I thought that with all of this “free” time, I would get a lot more done than I am. Truth is- I am not getting much done. I have not started a single project on my looming list of shit-to-do in my house. All I am getting done is day-to-day operations like cooking, cleaning, and laundry. But, when you’re home ALL DAY LONG, you’re eating 3x a day, so the housework you acquire is a lot more than when you were in your regular work schedule.

I just wanted to say to all the mothers out there, feeling like they aren’t doing enough- you are. And if you don’t get one thing done from your list, that’s fucking okay. Save your sanity. Take care of your mental health. Staying home with kids is not work the weak. And if you haven’t thanked your kids’ teachers, you should. They are fucking saints for putting up with not just your kid (s), but like 27 other kids evert day. all day. for 9 months.

Dear teachers, you deserve a raise!

Perception

You didn’t get voted prom queen. You didn’t get the scholarship. The boy didn’t call you back. Your friends have all dismissed you. You can’t help but think that there is something wrong with you, but what if there wasn’t? I mean, what if you fabricated this illusion that you weren’t worthy? What if all the shit you told yourself was bullshit? Of course it is. We are our own worst critics. I mean, there are certainly an outrageous number of narcissists and sociopaths out there, but most of us save the heaviest judgement for ourselves.

What if the other girl lost her father that year and everyone wanted to make someone else feel special for a night? What if there is another person that experienced one more hardship than you and received the scholarship that was meant for you? What if there is nothing wrong with you at all? What if you have experienced enough assholes in your life that helped persuade you into believing you aren’t shit?

Let’s think for a moment about that? How many times have you felt something so sincerely that you thought it was true only to be blind-sided by something that has absolutely NOTHING to do with YOU?

We do this shit to ourselves all the time. Worry. Stress. Fret. Overthink it all. We always think we have shit figured out and sometimes we do. Sometimes, our experiences help us recognize toxic people quickly and we dodge many bullets. Other times, we struggle with giving people enough room to prove our deepest fears wrong.

Where’s the balance in the freedom of new experiences, blazingly providing the space for creativity and growth, free from years of repeated failures and attempted repairs?

That guy that you felt sure was just as much in love with you as you were with him? Oh, he didn’t call you? You saw him with another girl? So. The. Fuck. What?! You didn’t get the scholarship? So. The. Fuck. What. Whatever the reason, there is a very good chance that it has nothing to do with you.

We live in our own heads, so it’s natural to think the world revolves around ourself. But, if your world revolves around you and his life revolves around him and her life revolves around her, then each experience will be perceived differently. We all have experiences that shape our perception of life. I mean, you can share an experience with another individual and the two of you experience and learn something entirely different.

Perception is a bitch. It’s like we take the sum of our experiences and then make these ridiculous assumptions about the future based on the past. But none of that is living in the moment. None of that is considerate of what is actually happening right NOW, in the present. Perception of how you’re treated by others seems to be more of a reflection of how we view ourselves and less about the reality of the situation.

So, maybe we should try to be easier on ourselves and leave room for an “alternate” ending because our own perceptions can interfere with reality. Perception is the cousin to “assumption” and you know what they say about assuming, “To assume is to make an ‘ass’ out of ‘u’ and ‘me’.

Get out of your head. Listen to understand. Be kind to yourself.

Writing is hard

I am a storyteller. I like to make people laugh. As an Aquarius, I can be wild and spirited, and sometimes pretty impulsive. My friends often tell me that I am the best person to go on an adventure with, whether that adventure is to the zen garden for a hammock, joint, and a nap, or traveling to Aruba for parasailing and exotic drinks on the beach. I am the person who is always doing 101 things and trying something new every time you see me. It actually looks weird- typing those words- because I don’t find myself very interesting- I just know I am never bored.

Someone told me that I should write a memoir- I thought that was funny because I have wanted to do this for many years- I just don’t think people give a shit enough to read about my emotional rollercoaster of a life. Who’s life isn’t interesting and tumultuous? We all have some kind of issues and some trauma that has shaped our lives. I am not special in this fact. I am not sure that my story will be exciting or anyone will care, but as my friend suggests- this may be a cool piece of yourself that you can share with the children someday. So, fuck it. Let’s write.

I am going to release several short stories about my life. Some of the names have been changed but all of the content is from experience. Please follow my journey!

Being Born

I guess we should start from the beginning, huh? Being born. I don’t remember much about it, but I know I was there.

My father ran into my mother, literally. Ran into her in an elevator. He was drunk and she had just moved back to Seattle after leaving a “Dear John” letter for the man she was supposed to marry in California. She was starting a new life- she had no job, no money, and her future ex-husband had just mowed her down in the elevator of the apartment she had just moved into. And that’s how my mom met my father.

As you can imagine children are born, I came into the world on in February 11, 1982. That makes me an Aquarius- creative, impulsive, over-thinking goal-getter, often found trying new experiences to see which ones fit best. On the flip side, I am also stubborn, direct to a fault, and an introverted extrovert and am royally skilled at attending social functions if only to master the “Irish Goodbye” and escaping from events without saying goodbye. My friends who know me, understand and those that don’t, can…well…who cares?

My parents marriage lasted for 10 years, five of which I existed for. I don’t remember too much about my father and the stuff that I remember was not pleasant. I remember going out to the car to find that out tires were slashed by police because my drunk father did something stupid. We ended up visiting him in jail once. He had been driving me and my brother around while he was wasted and was involved in a hit-and-run.

There was another time, when I was very young, he was upset with me for some reason trivial, he picked me up and launched me across the room. I hit the wall and slumped down beside the bed as he left me there to go to the liquor store.

We left Seattle because my father had pissed off someone and that someone decided to try to finish him by starting a fire outside their apartment door. Guess it was time to go. We were living in Colorado when my parents divorced. My mom always said my father was a nice man when he was sober. He just was never sober. So, my mom moved us to Minneapolis to be closer to family. She was born in Austin, MN and we needed to start over again.

I visited my father once when he was still in Colorado. I was nine. He was an asshole. He stored bottles of beer under the driver’s seat and didn’t see an issue with having my brother and me in tow. He had a friend that would come over and stare at me, 9-year old me, and blow kisses at me, like I was a woman sitting alone at the bar. I was scared to ever visit him again.

My father moved back to Seattle and I never saw him again. I had one more opportunity to visit him when I was 15. My brother was going to go and bring a friend and then I was supposed to bring a friend and visit later that summer. I chose not to go. Truth be told, my father terrified me and I didn’t trust him or his friends.

He died two months later. Cirrhosis. Literally drank himself to death. He died the day after my mom’s birthday. He always drank more around her birthday. He never stopped loving her. But he was sick. And so were the people he surrounded himself with.

My father’s good friend in Seattle used to call me late at night, drunk, and blame me for my father passing. This “friend” said I broke my father’s heart when I didn’t go to visit him and I was the reason he drank. Sad. Sick. True.

I never once, believed any accusation the strange man would spew into my ears. I knew, even at 15, he was bat-shit crazy to blame me for anything. But a part of it did hurt. I stopped answering those calls. Who the fuck does that? Warped motherfuckers, that’s who.

I have had a wide range of emotions over the years about the lack of family ties I hold with my father’s side of the family. Sometimes, I am very sad that I am missing an entire half of me that I will never get back. Other times, I am thankful and feel that I am missing nothing at all and I have everything I need from my friends and family surrounding me. Over the years, I did find my family. I don’t speak with any of them and those stories will come later.

Trust in the process

A couple years ago, I was working for in IT making more money than I have ever made in my life, well over six figures until one day, I was let go. I was told it was not a performance concern, but financial. The reality was it was nepotism. The reason is no longer significant – Regardless of why it happened, it did. And I was a widowed, single mother of two daughters that needed to figure out her next move.

I had enough money saved to make it a few months before I needed to worry, but trying to find a job in fourth quarter in IT is not an easy task. With the frustration of looking for work, I began to question why I really wanted these jobs? I didn’t particularly care for Information technology. I mean, certain aspects are really intriguing, but many of the roles I was working in didn’t fulfill me intrinsically. My last role drained me emotionally. Workplace drama, business inefficiencies and divided teams made every day feel like an uphill battle and for what?

It felt like I was coming home and drinking wine just to unwind from my day more frequently than I should. I was always stressed out and it was taking it’s toll on my entire life. How could I not see that before?

Being unemployed provided me the time to be home and around more for my children. It was a blessing and felt really satisfying to be around and prepare home cooked meals and not be rushed to exhaustion and defeat. I realized that staying in an unfulfilling job wasn’t worth it, even if it paid really well. I needed to make a bigger change.

Before I worked in Information Technology, I was a massage therapist. (Totally different, right?). And I didn’t want to go back to massage. I felt like I had moved onward and upward from my days in massage, having completed my Bachelor’s in Business Management and Leadership and even taken several Master’s level classes, but I didn’t know what else I could do. So, I took a job practicing massage for a local fitness center. This would afford me a free gym membership to get back in shape, a revenue stream, more time with my kids, and some time to figure out my next move. The catch, I am broke. But, you have to start somewhere, right?

Very quickly, I realized that I was going to be worked to death for a fraction of the income I was bringing in. But practicing massage also helped me remember how gratifying is it to help people manage their stress and physical and emotional obstacles. I thought to myself, “I can do this better”. So, I started looking for a space to rent, obtained licensing, and started the road down entrepreneurship. The American Dream: owning your own business!

Of course, self-employment has it’s perks- you choose your schedule and answer to no one. But the obstacles are grand as well. From licensing, zoning, and construction, to battling the world of marketing and SEO, self-employment is definitely for those with grit.

It’s been over a year and my business is not yet booming. Some weeks are fairly busy, some weeks I make nothing. It is stressful, but the stress isn’t the same as before. Maybe because I chose this stress- it’s different. This is the least amount of money I have ever brought in, but my mortgage is paid and my children eat well, so what more do we need? Money will come. And money will go.

Yesterday, I surprised a good friend with a coffee at work and she called me this morning to thank me while I was driving to volunteer at the Children’s Hospital, donating massages for the nurses that work the ER. My friend asks me, ‘Why would you do that? You’re giving your time and you’re making no money.’ I reminded her to trust in the process. If I don’t make money today, I can give my time to others. I believe it will come back to me.

I thought about my conversation with my friend as I was leaving the hospital. Even if I don’t gain new clients from my visit, those nurses needed massage today. The weekend brought several tragedies and some children did not return home with their families. It was more gratifying to provide some relief for people that put everything in to protecting and providing care for the human race.

I don’t know what direction to go most days but I do know I am exactly where I am supposed to be.

My daughter misses the bus almost every single day.

I used to be one of those moms who would try to get her kids to bed at 8:30 every night so they would be well rested and exuberant children in morning, ready to attack the day with a smile (insert sarcastic laugh here), but between the push-and-pull and frustration of kids that simply didn’t want to sleep, somewhere along the line, I gave up. I conceded. I donated my proverbial “Mom of the Year” trophy to all of the judgmental moms that wanted a grab at it or to throw it at my head.

The progression of parenting is an interesting one: the first child will often have first-time parents reading all of the preparing for baby books, filling in all of the blanks for keepsake books, planning and preparing schedules, meals, and naps with such precision that you could practically plan the royal wedding in your sleep.

By the time you have a second child, you find yourself relying less on the books and more on survival. You eat when you can. You sleep when you can. Your perfectly managed scheduled will now be an indefinite status of “tentative”.

At some point, you start to lose your sanity due to sleep deprivation and haven’t showered in days when you start to question what’s really important? If you child eats a snack before dinner, will it matter? Will this snack be THE snack that destroys all of the healthy eating habits you have been working to instill? If you ignore your baby’s cries so you can take five minutes for a hot shower, will it matter? Will your child grow up feeling unloved and rejected? Sounds pretty dramatic, right?

When I was pregnant, my body literally provided all the protection to my children’s environment. As they came into the world, I had to give up the idea that I could protect them and understand not everything is meant to be controlled. My peace-of-mind was more important than being upset daily. I found more value in letting them stay up and read than I did arguing for them stop intentionally prolonging their bedtime ritual. Instead of going to bed frustrated and disconnected, some nights are bursting with laughter and dance sessions and we go to bed with smiles and feel loved.

So, my kids don’t go to bed at a reasonable hour. It took me NINE years to get my youngest daughter to sleep in her own bed. NINE YEARS of getting throat-kicked and bitch-slapped. But for the past couple years, every morning, if she’s not already crawled into my bed throughout the night, I will call her back in for our morning “huggle”, which is simply a five minute super hug cuddle as I slap the snooze button three more times. This is how my daughter misses the bus. We miss the bus almost every day and I have to drive her to school. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

At the point when I gave up trying to mold my children into what is deemed by societal norms to be “appropriate behavior”, the guilt and shame of not being perfect was washed away with it.