next

I am lucky that I have a bunch of nexts. 

A plethora of possibilities (I do love alliteration). 

Several different paths I could choose to explore. 

But how to know which.

Which would be the best fit. The most fulfilling. The most successful. And that leads to just what is successful - making money, helping people, sharing information, heightening awareness?

Hmmm. 

I miss being lost in projects with timelines and schedules and finite goals. That somehow was far easier, while being far from easy. 

juggling

My mom just got home after 6 plus weeks in the hospital and rehab. 

My older one is smack in the middle of the college process. 

My younger one is struggling with the transition to high school. 

It's year two of a business I started and it's not coming together yet. 

The fight I've been fighting for fair funding in NYC schools gets more and more time consuming. 

This is my second year heading up the PTA at the largest high school in the country. 

Co writing a movie for the first time isn't what it was when I started. 

I've had my period for 12 days straight. 

Each of the above is fraught with emotions, changes, unknowns. There have been moments of pure joy. Others of abject fear. 

So many things swirling. 

Often at the same time. 

The juggle is real. 

sand

It's great to want to make change happen. 

It's inspiring to feel passionate about a cause. 

It's heartening to have people support what you believe in. 

It's gratifying to be heard. 

But it's like moving a beach one grain of sand at a time sometimes. 

Sigh. 

grasping

Aging parents. 

Aging kids. 

Aging me. 

Those three things dictate so much of my reality right now.

Unknown. Flux. Uncertainly. Lack of control. Confusion. 

Things that for the most part make me exceedingly uncomfortable. 

Change. 

And growing. Growing more dependent. Or independent. Gaining wisdom. Growing wings. Getting bigger. Or shrinking smaller. 

It's all so unsettling. I wish I could freeze time and not have sand contantly shifting under my feet, if only for a day or two. An hour here or there. A moment. 

A moment to appreciate all I have. All I love. How precious and profound and important and mundane all this is. 

Wishing I had a profound thought to wrap up with but tonight this is all I've got. 

everything and nothing

Right now I feel like I'm accomplishing nothing. 

In spite of the many things I'm in the middle of. 

Not sure where this flailing feeling is coming from. It could be the wanting and waiting for reaction and change and not knowing if that will ever or even happen. 

Will I move mountains or barely start a ripple? 

I don't know. Just have to wait and see I suppose. Which is one of my least favorite things to do. 

combinations

This morning my latest Huffington Post piece went live - everything something goes up, I still get a bit of a thrill. 

Curious, that they chose to leave the tampon photo off my piece about menstruation. Even more curious is that tampons are not actually given out by nurses in NYC public schools. 

I believe I just discovered what I'll be researching once school is back in session.

8

It's not often that I fall victim to apps/games (although I still play Fruit Ninja) on occasion. Temple Run caused way too much angst for something that was supposed to be enjoyable. Angry Birds escaped me. But I recently discovered the 8 year old in me loves making avatar, picking out outfits, and putting myself in ridiculous contexts on Bitmoji. 

I've irritated friends. Wasted too much time. Talked about it incessantly with family. And days later am still amused. 

I'd been thinking about writing about something more meaningful, introspective, or thought provoking, but after a rough night, this is as deep as I can go. 

And that's fine. 

fly like an eagle

I've generally been on the outside of things. Even when I wanted to be smack in the middle, I never was and didn't understand why. 

My road has been off the beaten track too and there were times, many in fact, when I wished for more traditional and expected direction, instead of forging ahead with no set path to follow. 

It was often isolating. Scary. Overwhelming. Intimidating. Threatening. Off-putting. It's taken until now (and I'm not totally there yet) to feel felt excitement instead of fear, anticipation instead of doubt. 

But with age comes an awareness, an acceptance, a knowing in my gut that I never had before or imagined was possible. I'm starting, at 51, to own who I am instead of regret who I'm not. To accept what makes me different instead of angst that I'm not like everyone else. To appreciate all that I am without ending thoughts with but or if only. 

Letting go of what holds us back is seemingly impossible at times. Yet imagine what we could do or who we could be without all the second guessing and self doubt. 

 

change

I had my tarot cards read today. Actually, it was far more of an interactive and internal journey - general I'm more of a passive bystander but this was significant give and take and I found that I was sharing more of myself than I do just about ever. With anyone. 

Perhaps it's time to change things up. Actually I know it's time. Or at least my gut sensed it and that's why it was important for me to do this. Right now. 

There were many take aways. The one, mid session, that struck home hardest were:

ruthlessly cut myself off from negative 

can't be the healer of everyone 

cut out everything that doesn't make me feel good

Wow. As much/most of my life is trying to make things better for everyone around me, on so many levels, the thought of giving some or any of that up is daunting. Feels impossible. And terrifying. What would I do with that space? How would the people I help handle things? What does taking care of myself and focus on positive even mean? 

Those are such profound, life changing, overwhelming thoughts. But perhaps it's time for profound, life changing and yes overwhelming action. 

love

Love. I'm always happy to celebrate love. 

My family laughs at me. Puts up with me. Humors me. Roll their eyes at me. 

But that's ok. 

I can never tell them enough how much I love them. They know. But to do it with balloons and ice cream cake and chocolate grows my heart even more. 

next up

Yesterday was talking about menstruation. Next up is rallying a NYC school community to fight for fair funding. Throw in my new business helping people navigate our complicated high school process along with exploring new avenues to get the word out about what I'm doing in that regard.

I've got pieces to write.

Agendas to construct.

Plans to make.

People to motivate.

Ideas to communicate.

And then there's the rest of life.

Valentine's cards to make.

Cookies to bake.

Yoga classes to take (this rhyming is unintentional).

Movies to write.

Blog posts to ponder.

Much is on my to do list at the moment. But at this very moment, I've got a dog on my lap, a chocolate cupcake staring me down, and a comedy juggling show to go to in a few minutes. And those trump everything else listed above.

back in the saddle

It's been a long time since menstruation was my middle name. For years I delved into, obsessed about, researched, dreamed, talked, lived, breathed periods. Against all odds and popular opinion I made my dream come true. My period project thoughts evolved into FLOW, the Cultural Story of Menstruation - 15 years from the inkling of an idea to a book on a shelf. With a fab launch party at Rizzoli's no less.

FLOW consumed me. It went far beyond research and writing. I scoured eBay and auction houses for vintage ads and packaging. Matched art to manuscript. Met with editors and designers. Wrote press releases. Created promo films. Pitched interview ideas. Spoke to reviewers, chatted on radio shows (Dr. Oz anyone?), spent a segment on The View with Whoopi, who thanked me for writing the book, and the rest of that morning cast. Amazon rankings ruled my emotions. Menstrual conversation took precedence over everything else.

And then it was over. Almost overnight.

I'd thought I'd be talking about periods forever. But instead, conversations moved elsewhere and the glimmers of interest dwindled. This process, that affects every person on the planet, whose presence signifies the ability to give birth, whose absence means life or life changes, still isn't something people want to talk about. Girls are still generally ashamed and uncomfortable. Women often dread or at least resent its arrival. Periods are the punch lines of jokes, the objects of ridicule, or the subject of blame. 

Except for out of the blue interviews, I stopped talking and moved on too.  

Then there was today. I got to dive in, revisit ideas, draw parallels and new conclusions. Talk about history and religion and girl power and packaging. Advertising and culture and puberty and menopause. Bodies. And blood. Where we've been, where we are, where we could go with mindfulness, constructive ideas, and the desire to make things better for future generations.

I wrote FLOW to inspire conversations about menstruation. Today I discovered they're happening. And I got to jump back in and remember why I put all this out into the world in the first place. 

big things

My life is full do big things, huge things, monumental things at the moment. Amazing opportunities and possibilities. Medical issues with no answers. Life's dramatically changing that deeply affect me but aren't mine. Giant meetings to run. Phone calls to doctors to make. Rallying of some people. Emotional support for others. 

So many unknowns it's hard to wrap my head around all of them. 

Some will work out. Some won't. Some could be phenomenal. Others could suck. 

All will be life changing. 

Sigh. 

Today I'm wishing for status quo. 

not writing

Writing. Putting words to thoughts. Moving idea for the mess in my head outside somehow makes them more real. Formally acknowledges their presence.  Gives them power. 

For now, I prefer to live without concreteness. Because saying all that's going on means I have to deal. 

And I don't want to. 

That's my biggest writing roadblock right now. 

Not wanting what is to be true. 

next

I don't know what's next. 

I don't angst about it like I used to. 

I don't need to know. 

I'm more comfortable with the unknown than I ever have been. 

Sort of. 

I can't tell if this calmer outlook is because I'm growing up. Getting older. Or giving in. 

Part of me wishes I could rekindle my passion and energy and drive. And part of me is nothing but relieved to not be so driven anymore. 

delving

I used to use this space to delve deeper into some serious issues. I bared my soul. I shared my fears. I opened my insecurities to the world. Which, at the time, was a welcome release. 

Part of me wishes I could still do that. There's much inside me right now that needs a place to go. Aging parents. Aging me. Aging kids. College. High school. Menopause. Career paths. Volunteering. Politics. Racism. Health. Wealth. The state of the city. The state of the country. The wars in the world. 

Overwhelming. 

Writing it out doesn't feel right at the moment. It's almost too much to contend with and so it's less emotional to plough through my extensive to do list and not address the other parts of things, no matter how important, intense, pervasive they are. 

Sigh. 

My mantra of the moment helps me through these unknowing, ever changing bits: this too shall pass. And from mud comes beauty. 

next up

I could contact fellow PTA's about unfair funding. Work on marketing strategies for my newish business. Research femcare advertising for a possible project. Send out invoices. Look into car service packages. Delve into one of the many book ideas I have that I haven't explored yet. Clean my living room. Make dinner. 

Be productive. 

But instead I'm just going to sit here a little longer and feel pretty ok about not doing any of the above or anything else. 

swirling thoughts

Well, not really swirling. Regular meditation has turned down the swirl volume significantly. But these days, without a project to totally immerse myself in, new ideas float in fairly often. 

Sadly, they float out almost as quickly without my having acted on them. 

An idea arrives. I work it through a bit in my head. And then off it goes without having been fully explored or put out in the world in any real way. These days it's public education. Unfair funding. High school admissions. The college process. The state of politics both nationally and in MYC. Bureaucracy. The frustration of trying to make changes. Menstruation has popped up again. 

I wonder if I should focus on one area again. One argument. One point of view and let all the rest go. But nothing is consuming me the way things used to. 

I take that as a sign of health and balance. But I miss the drive and the end of day accomplishments. 

under the radar

I've been feeling lately that I'm not accomplishing much - not the way I did when I went from project to project, book to book, back to back to back endevours that absorbed all my time, creativity, energy. 

It's been a long time since I lost my soul to things like that, things that consumed me and took over my life. I don't particularly miss them. The highs were glorious but the lows almost broke me at times and I know I don't want to go back to those dark places again. 

Tonight though, I saw what I've been quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) fighting for was heard. Information shared. People educated. Processes explained. That perhaps my final outcomes aren't going to be concrete books on shelves or public acknowledgements of what I've done, but instead an internal thumb's up to myself, a quiet knowledge that I'm making a difference. That I'm helping. 

It's not nearly as public. But remarkably satisfying.