Lately, I've been doing a lot of soul searching.
It seems I'd forgotten myself in the chaos and hurry of the world.
My soulmate died June 11, 2016 forever altering my path and destiny. Not only did I lose a huge part of my life and passion when he passed suddenly, I also lost MYSELF.
Now, you might wave a finger and argue that another person's death should not be an excuse to feel lost or uncharted. After all, do we not make our own destiny everyday by the choices we make when our feet first hit the floor?
Let me make it very clear that Trent Gardner was my compass and my light. Never before in my life did one human being have such an affinity for me; he loved me with conviction and SUPPORTED ME. My dreams were his, my goals aligned with his goals, our long term plan in sync.
Something detrimental happens when a person you LOVE DEEPLY dies. A MONUMENTAL part of yourself goes away with them. The trick is to re-evaluate yourself, search for what's been lost, and find the MEANING of your life that apparently went away with their demise.
All of these steps are crucial to finding one's SELF again. The loss of SELF is heartbreaking. It's like stating out loud that you don't matter, that your dreams and goals can take a long, simmering wait on the back burner, and that will be good enough.
Many of us are guilty of losing our SELF. We accept crumbs from people, shortchange ourselves, diminish our psyche with negative self talk and limiting beliefs. Don't you ever wonder why you are STUCK in one place and cannot seem to move forward? Perhaps you've put yourself there. Have you forgotten that YOU deserve a shot at the best in life? Do you really want to continue this dead end, winding road in the wilderness, without ever seeing a BIG, JUICY OUTCOME?
Sadly, I've let people around me dictate my life and tell me (in many backhanded ways, not necessarily vocalizing it to me) that i am simply not worth it. That if I don't "seize this opportunity now," and I keep choosing to be picky or discerning, that I will limit myself to having NOTHING and then I will be screwed.
Wait a minute...WHAT???? Do we not live in an ABUNDANT Universe that supports us? Can we not sit for a moment...take a step back...and prioritize?
I don't HAVE TO take the scraps and crumbs. I DESERVE the very best in life. I'm not playing this game for another 40 years. I've paid my dues, done the dirty work, labored it out with blood, sweat and tears. Don't you dare hand me that tired old, demoralizing line one more time "beggars can't be choosers."
This here is no beggar. Starting today, I'm taking back my power. I'll show more self compassion, and give no heed to what those naysayers feed me. I'll trust my intuition, be my own compass, and chart this course the best way I know how. Those old limiting beliefs that kept me paralyzed will no longer dictate my needs or wants. I'll discover that progress CAN be made, and that reaching higher is certainly most attainable.
Have you lost your sense of Self? Then why not take some time today....to revisit your soul's haven? Look within for all that you need. Surely, the answers will find you, and you will not be led astray.
Cheering for you always,
RR xo
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 19, 2017
Saturday, April 8, 2017
PEOPLE WHO NEED PEOPLE
Who doesn't like to feel needed?
Isn't it a wonderful feeling, to have someone need you?
Not in a NEEDY or clingy sort of way, but rather...in the sense that we bring something to the table that enriches someone's life for the BETTER.
You see, I've experienced shaming around the concept of NEEDING someone.
"You don't need him," they judged. Or..."You can do it all and have it all...on your own. You don't need a man."
That feminist, independent woman badge that people chose to flaunt...I cannot understand it for the life of me. Sure, you want to proclaim to the world that "sisters are doing it for themselves." Oh, but alas, this is where feminism got it all wrong. You see, the problem with this is the fact that women have pushed men away. GOOD men, for that matter.
All too often, I hear girlfriends say to me "I can't find a good man. All they want is sex. The good ones are all taken, The good looking men are either gay or married. The worthwhile men are taken. The only ones left are the players, duds or deadbeats.
Here is where yours truly steps in to raise the debate. The problem with these women who wear the MISS INDEPENDENT badge are the same ones crying poor over the lack of good men in society. No, it's not a lack of good men...but rather, a lack of GRATEFUL WOMEN. Sister, you're doing it all wrong. You want to scream to the masses that you can fix your own broken toilet, you can carry the heavy bags of groceries up those steep steps, you don't need help with the broken light bulb or help paying your electricity bill, etc.You want to appear all strong and macho. See your problem? You got all the "hustle" to make things happen, and to pay all your bills and get bragging rights to "have it all" and do it all...but you've forgotten one simple concept: MEN WANT TO PLAY THE HERO.
Don't you ever wonder why romance novels still make 1 billion in sales annually? Because men still want to play the hero, even in modern day. We've forgotten how to RECEIVE, so we've worn ourselves out GIVING too much...we over work ourselves, wear our bodies to the bone til we're on the verge of collapse. We think we're playing it smart by overextending ourselves and doing it all.
Needing someone's help is a good trait to have. This works both ways. Sometimes, a man does not want to ask for a woman's help, either. Perhaps it makes him feel less of a man, But we need one another, and it is a beautiful thing indeed. That's why it doesn't hurt to ask for help. You won't be seen as "weak" or incompetent. You'll bond closer with those who care about you. Go ahead, try it and see. You might just be amazed.
People who need people...are the luckiest people in the world (as the song goes).
Cheering for you always,
RR xo
Isn't it a wonderful feeling, to have someone need you?
Not in a NEEDY or clingy sort of way, but rather...in the sense that we bring something to the table that enriches someone's life for the BETTER.
You see, I've experienced shaming around the concept of NEEDING someone.
"You don't need him," they judged. Or..."You can do it all and have it all...on your own. You don't need a man."
That feminist, independent woman badge that people chose to flaunt...I cannot understand it for the life of me. Sure, you want to proclaim to the world that "sisters are doing it for themselves." Oh, but alas, this is where feminism got it all wrong. You see, the problem with this is the fact that women have pushed men away. GOOD men, for that matter.
All too often, I hear girlfriends say to me "I can't find a good man. All they want is sex. The good ones are all taken, The good looking men are either gay or married. The worthwhile men are taken. The only ones left are the players, duds or deadbeats.
Here is where yours truly steps in to raise the debate. The problem with these women who wear the MISS INDEPENDENT badge are the same ones crying poor over the lack of good men in society. No, it's not a lack of good men...but rather, a lack of GRATEFUL WOMEN. Sister, you're doing it all wrong. You want to scream to the masses that you can fix your own broken toilet, you can carry the heavy bags of groceries up those steep steps, you don't need help with the broken light bulb or help paying your electricity bill, etc.You want to appear all strong and macho. See your problem? You got all the "hustle" to make things happen, and to pay all your bills and get bragging rights to "have it all" and do it all...but you've forgotten one simple concept: MEN WANT TO PLAY THE HERO.
Don't you ever wonder why romance novels still make 1 billion in sales annually? Because men still want to play the hero, even in modern day. We've forgotten how to RECEIVE, so we've worn ourselves out GIVING too much...we over work ourselves, wear our bodies to the bone til we're on the verge of collapse. We think we're playing it smart by overextending ourselves and doing it all.
Needing someone's help is a good trait to have. This works both ways. Sometimes, a man does not want to ask for a woman's help, either. Perhaps it makes him feel less of a man, But we need one another, and it is a beautiful thing indeed. That's why it doesn't hurt to ask for help. You won't be seen as "weak" or incompetent. You'll bond closer with those who care about you. Go ahead, try it and see. You might just be amazed.
People who need people...are the luckiest people in the world (as the song goes).
Cheering for you always,
RR xo
Thursday, September 3, 2015
DON'T MAKE ME DULL MY SPARKLE FOR YOU
I'm sorry, but is my sparkle blinding you today?
I'll admit, over the course of my life, there has always been that one female in a social group or a co-worker trying to bring me down. My problem, they suggest, is that I smile too much, look too enthused, I'm not taking my job seriously. It makes me sick, to be honest. These haters just won't leave me alone.
Like an epidemic, they come out in droves occasionally. Ever notice when you're doing well -- REALLY, REALLY WELL -- that's when a Negative Nancy or Debbie Downer tries to rain on your parade.
There's this one girl in my circle of friends (I'll call her Andrea, just to save myself a backlash). She dotes on me sometimes, seems to be really into me. Messages or calls out of the blue. Claims to show "empathy" if I have a bad day. But when I'm on a winning streak with Keno or my love life is STELLAR, she is nowhere to be found. She sometimes goes two months not talking to me. Hides in her cave. Shuts me out. It's cruel and revolting. I pretend to be neutral. I'd just cut her lose, to save myself the hassle. But you see, I have an obligation to her. She pulled a suicide card on me. She's also linked to my immediate circle. She makes me feel bad about her life, how everyone around her is doing so well, rolling in money, etc etc and she is stuck in the same spot. I can't help her. Really, I can't. She doesn't want my help. She just wants to vent, complain, dump on me.
Energy vampire, that's the terminology for 2015. It's the trendy way of saying Narcissistic Sociopath.
As the title of this blog suggests, I still refuse to dull my sparkle so this person can feel less bad about herself. I'm keeping my basket of glitter. In fact, I have an airplane full of glitter, ready to drop from the sky. I hate that people try to make me look DULL, lackluster, like an old penny, littered on the ground. Its value is next to nil.
My entire growing up years, my mother made me feel small. Powerless. She silenced me. As a teen and in my early 20's, she said my neckline was too low, or if I walked alone in my small bedroom town after 9:00 p.m., people would mistake me for a "street walker." Ironically, I was a virgin til almost 21 and married the guy. In later years, I suffered hypothyroidism, and gained some weight. Regardless of the protein diets, vegetarian diets, healthy shakes, 3 power walks/runs a day and 4L of water, I still couldn't lose a pound.
The abuse got worse then. In my thirties, she told me I was fat, meaning I was not pretty enough, and I needed to look and act like this 6 foot tall, statuesque blonde named Jackie. "Why can't you marry into money like Barb's daughter? Can't you lose 40 pounds and find a good man like Jackie did?"
"Oh, she's so beautiful! She's so thin. She's a successful school teacher. Why don't you apply for a high paying job?"
Body shaming? Don't ever do this to your daughter. It's heartless, cruel, and degrading. It makes them have eating disorders and waste away to a bone rack. No REAL MOTHER would reduce their daughter to this.
Naively, I thought there was something wrong with me. Until I saw my mother go on another crash diet, aka "30 day juice fast" to lose 30 lbs and look "slim, just like in high school when I was a size 6/7," she would proudly chant. Upon losing the weight (and these diets went on for 30 years) she would parade around in a new outfit and rub it in my face at how I'd somehow failed in the beauty department. But then in 2011, she had a gall bladder attack and was rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery. I guess I was right about those dangerous diets catching up to her. She could've lost her life. Scary, right?
Another time, I served meals at a retirement home. This was a good gig. There was 130 seniors who experienced my smile, my cheerful banter, and most were close to death at any moment. I made their remaining years worthwhile. Some girl I'll call "Terri," just 18, wore a scowl everyday to work. She must've had a rough life, running to daddy all the time for cash handouts. She had a great body, half decent looks, and planned to go to University in Italy that Fall. Still, she was a miserable wench. She snapped under her breath, watching me entertain the residents, "I hate Rochelle!" By the end of Summer, she'd quit early, handing me her remaining shifts. At the time, I had no idea what I'd done to make her hate me. After all, I loved all the girls I worked with. I was 28, working alongside girls age 17 and 18, but they all liked me and cracked jokes. Many knew they could phone me and drop their shifts on me, if they had last minute party plans or an invite to some cottage. I was Miss Reliable. In later years, I reflect on this nasty person, and summed it up to this: she just hated her life. She hated herself. There was nothing I could do about it.
Moral of the story: since I've experienced females trying to body shame me or restrict my sparkle to No Man's Land, my outlook has changed. I refuse to let anyone diminish me to a speck of dirt.
Do I make you feel uncomfortable? Well, then, that's too bad. Learn to deal with it. And get some professional help. No one has the right to belittle another human and make them feel like garbage.
"She writes romance novels and publishes them? Who does she think she is, Danielle Steel?"
I laugh now, at some of the slander that has boomerang'd back to me. I'm not doing anything wrong, just following my heart's desire, and doing what I love. These people don't like the new and improved Rochelle? Well, stick it. Cause I'm not going anywhere.
Word to the wise: Never let someone dull your sparkle. Keep on shining, no matter what. Yes, there will be tough times. There will be haters. People who can't handle your megawatt smile and positive vibes. That's okay. Keep up the summer glow, the ray of sunshine, that beacon streaming from you. This hurting world needs more of you. Believe me.
Cheering you on. Always.
xo RR xo
I'll admit, over the course of my life, there has always been that one female in a social group or a co-worker trying to bring me down. My problem, they suggest, is that I smile too much, look too enthused, I'm not taking my job seriously. It makes me sick, to be honest. These haters just won't leave me alone.
Like an epidemic, they come out in droves occasionally. Ever notice when you're doing well -- REALLY, REALLY WELL -- that's when a Negative Nancy or Debbie Downer tries to rain on your parade.
There's this one girl in my circle of friends (I'll call her Andrea, just to save myself a backlash). She dotes on me sometimes, seems to be really into me. Messages or calls out of the blue. Claims to show "empathy" if I have a bad day. But when I'm on a winning streak with Keno or my love life is STELLAR, she is nowhere to be found. She sometimes goes two months not talking to me. Hides in her cave. Shuts me out. It's cruel and revolting. I pretend to be neutral. I'd just cut her lose, to save myself the hassle. But you see, I have an obligation to her. She pulled a suicide card on me. She's also linked to my immediate circle. She makes me feel bad about her life, how everyone around her is doing so well, rolling in money, etc etc and she is stuck in the same spot. I can't help her. Really, I can't. She doesn't want my help. She just wants to vent, complain, dump on me.
Energy vampire, that's the terminology for 2015. It's the trendy way of saying Narcissistic Sociopath.
As the title of this blog suggests, I still refuse to dull my sparkle so this person can feel less bad about herself. I'm keeping my basket of glitter. In fact, I have an airplane full of glitter, ready to drop from the sky. I hate that people try to make me look DULL, lackluster, like an old penny, littered on the ground. Its value is next to nil.
My entire growing up years, my mother made me feel small. Powerless. She silenced me. As a teen and in my early 20's, she said my neckline was too low, or if I walked alone in my small bedroom town after 9:00 p.m., people would mistake me for a "street walker." Ironically, I was a virgin til almost 21 and married the guy. In later years, I suffered hypothyroidism, and gained some weight. Regardless of the protein diets, vegetarian diets, healthy shakes, 3 power walks/runs a day and 4L of water, I still couldn't lose a pound.
The abuse got worse then. In my thirties, she told me I was fat, meaning I was not pretty enough, and I needed to look and act like this 6 foot tall, statuesque blonde named Jackie. "Why can't you marry into money like Barb's daughter? Can't you lose 40 pounds and find a good man like Jackie did?"
"Oh, she's so beautiful! She's so thin. She's a successful school teacher. Why don't you apply for a high paying job?"
Body shaming? Don't ever do this to your daughter. It's heartless, cruel, and degrading. It makes them have eating disorders and waste away to a bone rack. No REAL MOTHER would reduce their daughter to this.
Naively, I thought there was something wrong with me. Until I saw my mother go on another crash diet, aka "30 day juice fast" to lose 30 lbs and look "slim, just like in high school when I was a size 6/7," she would proudly chant. Upon losing the weight (and these diets went on for 30 years) she would parade around in a new outfit and rub it in my face at how I'd somehow failed in the beauty department. But then in 2011, she had a gall bladder attack and was rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery. I guess I was right about those dangerous diets catching up to her. She could've lost her life. Scary, right?
Another time, I served meals at a retirement home. This was a good gig. There was 130 seniors who experienced my smile, my cheerful banter, and most were close to death at any moment. I made their remaining years worthwhile. Some girl I'll call "Terri," just 18, wore a scowl everyday to work. She must've had a rough life, running to daddy all the time for cash handouts. She had a great body, half decent looks, and planned to go to University in Italy that Fall. Still, she was a miserable wench. She snapped under her breath, watching me entertain the residents, "I hate Rochelle!" By the end of Summer, she'd quit early, handing me her remaining shifts. At the time, I had no idea what I'd done to make her hate me. After all, I loved all the girls I worked with. I was 28, working alongside girls age 17 and 18, but they all liked me and cracked jokes. Many knew they could phone me and drop their shifts on me, if they had last minute party plans or an invite to some cottage. I was Miss Reliable. In later years, I reflect on this nasty person, and summed it up to this: she just hated her life. She hated herself. There was nothing I could do about it.
Moral of the story: since I've experienced females trying to body shame me or restrict my sparkle to No Man's Land, my outlook has changed. I refuse to let anyone diminish me to a speck of dirt.
Do I make you feel uncomfortable? Well, then, that's too bad. Learn to deal with it. And get some professional help. No one has the right to belittle another human and make them feel like garbage.
"She writes romance novels and publishes them? Who does she think she is, Danielle Steel?"
I laugh now, at some of the slander that has boomerang'd back to me. I'm not doing anything wrong, just following my heart's desire, and doing what I love. These people don't like the new and improved Rochelle? Well, stick it. Cause I'm not going anywhere.
Word to the wise: Never let someone dull your sparkle. Keep on shining, no matter what. Yes, there will be tough times. There will be haters. People who can't handle your megawatt smile and positive vibes. That's okay. Keep up the summer glow, the ray of sunshine, that beacon streaming from you. This hurting world needs more of you. Believe me.
Cheering you on. Always.
xo RR xo
Friday, July 31, 2015
Living Life With Orgasmic Joy
Most of us know the word "orgasmic" pertaining simply to sex, but in the business world, it takes on a whole new meaning.
As a novelist, I'll admit hearing this terminology outside the pages of a steamy romance is a little shocking. Especially when I spend my nights by candlelight creating such pulse-pounding intensity, filled with the goosebumps and shivers that come along with material that makes you go "MMMM."
What exactly am I getting at, you ask? Well, for starters, most people who live life on the "normal" cycle all the time, just go through the motions. They get up, make coffee, have breakfast, gas their car, go to a job they may or may not like. Day in, day out, they repeat this mundane cycle, never fully connecting with the core of what it is that gives them their bread and butter. My guess is that they have no idea how to get pumped or excited for the life they've carved for themselves.
Orgasmic joy, I'll guess, is something most of the population doesn't experience when their feet hit the floor in the morning. How many of us bolt out of bed, feel a burst of energy from our spirit and yell out "OH YES!! YESSS!! at the thought of heading to work? I can almost bet good money that you're not mimicking Meg Ryan in that famous diner scene.
Go ahead, laugh a little. It's absurd, right? But let's be real. How bummed are you to head to work and feel that familiar dread creeping in your chest?
I can't remember when I felt ORGASMIC about a specific job I've held in my lifetime. There have been jobs I did enjoy, where the people were bearable, or pleasant. There's been places I worked where some co-workers shared laughs with me and great anecdotes. Others still, gave me gut-busting memories in the book of life. But, to be honest, I've yet to encounter a job that gave me the "BIG O."
That is, until February 2012, when I sat down on a snowy winter night and crafted a romance novel called PASSION. For the first time, I realized just what it felt like to work in a spectrum that brought orgasmic feelings. Writing that love story was sheer joy. It was absolute ECSTASY. I'd finally found my ultimate bliss. What the heck took me so long? I was 35 years old, for crying out loud.
Let's flashback for a moment. At the tender age of 14, I discovered the power of prose and penned a young adult equestrian romance novel. That little manuscript gave me a feeling of pride that lasted momentarily. Til it sat in a dusty box for well over a decade. Years passed, 13 years of writer's block to be exact, and somehow in late 2011, I met a mentor who opened the portals for me, brought back my passion for noveling, and cured my writer's block (thanks KGM).
Nowhere else in the job industry have I come close to orgasmic joy in any field of work. Writing my passionate love stories of hope, healing and triumph really "does it for me," though. It gets the mercury rising, the pulse racing, the staccato beat of the heart going. In short, I feel ELATED when I sit down to write such thrilling stories. It truly is my niche.
That being said, it now begs to ask the question: Can others find their bliss doing what they love for a living? I would certainly like to think so. For everyone in this social network, I wish the same for you. I truly do.
How can we, in the meantime, bring about this heightened bliss for ourselves? Is it even possible?
Yes, it is!
The answer is simply this: find your passion and make a living at it.
But -- you might ask -- what is it that makes you "passionate"?
Reminisce now to the days of childhood when you ran free, had an imagination like wildfire, could dream up any astronomical dream, and felt free as a bird, just living in the paradise of being a footloose kid. What did you want to be when you "grew up"? Was it a Neil Armstrong, a Bobby Orr, or perhaps a Steve Martin? Whatever it was that made you daydream and have visions of a happy future, revisit that. Trust me. That, right there, is your ORGASMIC JOY. You have the money shot, the golden ticket, the midas answer. When you find your authentic self and all that makes your dear little heart race madly, that is what you must dwell on. I'm telling you from firsthand experience. At seven, I just knew that I was the next Lucy Maud Montgomery or Danielle Steel. The glass slipper just fit.
I want to reinforce this thing called JOY. The "happy" chemicals that make you feel good -- serotonin, dopamine, oxytocin-- are the ones you experience during the joyful highs in your life. When you find work that makes you exultant, almost giddy to be alive, then surely, you know you've arrived at a place that is meant for you. Your supreme CALLING is the one that makes you tick.
So get out there and grab life by the big balloons. Set sail on a marvelous adventure. Find your passion, go hardcore, dream full force, make your mark and by all means, hit that "BIG O."
Life is waiting for you to scream out "YESSS, OHHH YESSS!"
--Rochelle Renee--
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