In one of the stores he picks up a mirror and looks in it. Not ever having seen one before, he remarked at the image staring back at him, “How about that! Here’s a picture of my daddy.”

He bought the mirror thinking it was a picture of his daddy, but on the way home he remembered his wife didn’t like his father, so he hung it in the barn, and every morning before leaving for the fields, he would go there and look at it.

His wife began to get suspicious of these many trips to the barn.

One day after her husband left, she searched the barn and found the mirror.

As she looked into the glass, she fumed, “So that’s the ugly bitch he’s runnin’ around with.”

I laughed. So did you I’m sure. But this email from a friend was part of a discussion I’ve been having with people about how our thoughts, how our outer reality is just a reflection of what’s happening inside us. Psychologists call it “projection.” Are you calling someone annoying? What is it that makes it annoying really? Is it something that you do yourself?

Byron Katie speaks to this topic in “The work.”

And while this may all seem like it has nothing to do with triiibes or tribes, it has everything to do with triiibes. Because the stories we tell about others may really be the stories we’re telling about ourselves. I don’t believe in the absolute mirror theory, but I do believe that our THOUGHTS about things rather than the FACTS about them, impact our business, our clients, our communication.

How?

Well, in the past week three new clients have come to me with new business and I’ve turned them down – even though I could really use the work right now. Why did I turn them down? One refused to pay my rate, even though he could afford it – but his last web designer “ripped him off,” and never finished the website and charged him $2,000 and he got screwed. I told him I was sorry that happened, but that I was not that designer. I offered to break down the work in segments and get paid only after he was satisfied at each stage. His solution was to pay me $300 for a $2,000 website. I declined. He was angry at his last designer and I knew I would end up taking the brunt of his anger and that didn’t work for me. He didn’t respect me or even want to give me a chance at proving that not all designers were rip-offs.

Another would-be client wanted a brochure. Simple enough. But his competition made fun of his last design, so he wanted me to figure out a way to create a design THEY would respect. Huh? Think of the Microsoft/Apple pissing contests. Same thing. I don’t want to be designing for a company that would NEVER admit the design was cool even if they thought so. We had “the talk” about being his own man and setting the standard, not following someone else. He wanted to pay for ONE FINAL design, but not all it would take to get there. I turned him down too.

A fairly well-known copy-writer came to me and asked me to write an ebook for them and then “split the profit.” I’d do 80% of the work – they’d handle all the money, create the landing page, and then eventually sell the site and take 2/3’s of the sale. For an “up-and-coming” writer like me – they said, “It’s a great deal.” No it wasn’t. We’re not talking thousands or hundreds of thousands of dollars here. He was talking hundreds….as in, less than $1,000. I didn’t laugh in his face, but wish I had. In the past he’s offered me $5 per hour to rewrite his articles. No respect there for me.

My initial thoughts were: What is wrong with ME that I attract these people? Then I wondered if the “mirror” was about me not respecting myself enough and attracting people who didn’t respect me, and on and on and on!! The friend who sent me the hill-billy story said, “You’re not the problem – it’s the STORY you’re telling yourself about what YOU see in the mirror that’s the problem.”

So – the moral of the story – stop trying to figure out what the mirror is “saying” and start looking at the story YOU’RE telling about what you see IN the mirror. It’s the STORY you tell about what you see that matters most….THAT will determine your feelings, and from your feelings will come your actions. Look closely. What do you see?

Chronic Fatigue, long thought to be a “malingerer’s” disorder – something lazy people claimed to have when they didn’t want to work, is finally being recognized as a real disease with a biological marker. It’s an autoimmune disease – meaning the body attacks itself. The immense fatigue – much like what you’d feel at the height of a bad case of the flu, combined with the body and joint pains of Fibromyalgia, sucks, to put it simply. But it is what it is. My doctor believes the disease stems from severe childhood trauma (been there, had that). But whatever caused it, it’s pretty easy to say, “It’s not fair.” And it’s not. That and $400 will pay my rent. I’ve learned that whining and blaming makes it worse, not better. So now when I rest and feel discouraged I go online in search of inspiration. And I find it. Today I found Cha Sa-Soon.

Cha Sa-soon, is a 69-year-old woman who lives alone in the mountain-ringed village of Sinchon. According to the story in The New York Times about her, she recently got her driver’s license after failing the test 960 times. She got the driving part. It was the written test that she couldn’t pass. Her ability to read and write had to be overcome first. Even taking the audio version of the test didn’t work. But she didn’t let that deter her. She had to take two buses to the office where she could take the test. Missing one meant a two-hour wait. Persistence is a much admired trait in South Korea, and just about anywhere I’d say.

So when I read about Cha Sa-soon I responded to an email I’d been waiting to answer. I sent them the link to the story and wished them well. It won’t do any good. People like that just write back and say, “But you don’t understand. I can’t just do it,” and then launch into a long list of reasons why their age, their health, their lack of schooling and their childhood created a perfect excuse for not trying. People like that think you’re being “selfish” if you respond with stories about your own challenges, or if you point to others who have overcome blindness, paralysis or cancer or amputation to create a life. I don’t share my challenges to get pity. I share them to say, “Yeah, I really DO understand. I do!” Apparently that doesn’t penetrate some people’s anger over what they see as injustice directed right at them.

They are so focused on their own misery they become HUGE energy vampires and wonder why no one wants to be around them. So they complain louder, get angrier and drive more people away. It’s a vicious cycle. I know. I used to do that. I work hard at not doing it. One way is by realizing that accepting the cards and learning to play the hand dealt you is a lot more productive than anger, bitterness and whining. I do complain. But I don’t let it stop me. And I’m working on getting to the point where I don’t even bitch and complain! It’s coming!! I’m so much better than I used to be, but I’m not there yet. I’m a work in progress. But that’s why I write these blog posts. Because I want people to know it IS a process – and you have to persist – not resist the lesson.

The fact is persistence, not resistance, is how we all get through this thing called life. If you have a home, be grateful! So many don’t. If you’re on the street and you’re alive, you’re doing something – eating when you can, sleeping where you can, and doing what you can to survive, be grateful. You could be much worse off. And if you’re doing enough to stay alive, then you’re already doing the baby steps you need to succeed. I’m already doing it. No, I’m not as fast or capable as I used to be. I can’t work some days. But I don’t look at what I can’t do. I look at what I can do. It’s a choice.

Cha Sa-soon could have given up, said life wasn’t fair, or settled for riding the bus. But she didn’t. She needed the license for her vegetable selling business. So she just kept taking the test and taking the test. And she passed. All she wanted was the driver’s license, but her efforts inspired so many that Hyundai gave her a new car and put her in a car commercial. Her life is much better now because she focused on what she could do and did it.

“Her tenacity,” The NY Times writer noted, “has struck a chord with South Koreans, who are often exhorted to recall the hardship years after the 1950-53 Korean War and celebrate perseverance as a national trait.

“The country’s most popular boxing champion was Hong Su-hwan, who was floored four times before knocking out Hector Carrasquilla to win the World Boxing Association’s super bantamweight championship in 1977. His feat gave rise to a popular phrase about resolve: “Sajeonogi,” or “Knocked down four times, rising up five.”

We are all inspired by persistence, but rarely understand how truly inspiring effort is until we try and fail ourselves.

I have no great goals other than the ones I set and work on. Some days I can work longer than others. Some days are normal. I get little or no advance warning until I wake up. I consider myself one of the lucky ones. I look at what I have, not what I don’t have; at what I can do, not at what I can’t do. I grieve the things I will never get to do, and look forward to things I think I can. Wherever you are on your journey – remember – I DO UNDERSTAND!! ANd I tell you, it’s persistence, not resistance. It’s not a race. It’s your life. Enjoy every precious minute you have. Even that can be taken away in an instant. All you have is NOW. Persist.

Stephen’s post today was about “In defense of laziness,” and he pointed out that different lifestyle choices are just that – choices. For instance, he said, if you enjoy living in a pizza box, beer bottle strewn apartment, but then hook up with a neat freak who wants “more” out of life, chances are you’re going to be miserable, or you’re going to change or at least compromise because you love your lifestyle choice. Why? Because one person may see the pizza box life as “lazy,” apparently. I don’t know that the post (for me anyway) was as much about “being lazy” as it was about our choice of lifestyle in many ways.

One of the reasons I’ve been single most of my life is because the men I’ve met have a definite idea of what kind of life they want to live, and shall we say – it’s not usually in sync with my idea of nirvana. They either want (early in my life) a trophy wife, beautiful, fit, sexy thing to show off – or later in life, a rich and attractive wife to support them while they don’t work. Being a 24-hour on demand sex machine, meeting a man’s every whim, is not how I want to spend my life. My generation may have been teens during the women’s equality movement, but they were raised during the 50s and 60s when a woman’s place was in the home, barefoot and pregnant and waiting on their man and that’s what most of them expect in a woman. The 60s and 70s were about free sex for them, not liberation of a woman’s spirit. So, I rarely meet a man who shares my idea of what a relationship is – and when I do, they’re married already. Oh well. I’ll keep looking. There’s a man out there somewhere who wants to RV, fish, travel and work enough to enjoy life, pay the bills and be in the moment, and treat me as an equal! Some men think that people ought to work hard their entire lives and would see me as “being lazy” because I don’t want to retire in a million-dollar condo on the beach and drive a $50,000 car. That’s just not me. I’m not lazy. I just don’t want to work that hard to get, keep and maintain a material goods life.

So after reading Stephen’s post I started thinking about how I would describe how I choose to live and if it’s lazy or not. Some people think so because I’m not chasing the 9-5 and take work home dream. Then I realized that I’m living the way I am and I’m not happy with it a lot of the time. It’s not because I don’t like the lifestyle. It’s because I keep feeling like I have to defend my choice – like it’s wrong somehow. Stephen writes:

Despite working extremely hard through a lot of my life, I’ve been called lazy at times. I’ve called other people lazy when I probably shouldn’t have. Most of the time people are simply projecting their values on someone else. We throw the word “lazy” around far too often when we are judging other people’s free choice to live their lives as they see fit. If you are taking care of yourself and are not a burden on others, as far as I’m concerned you can be as lazy as you want.

Same as me. All through college I took a full load of classes and often worked two or three jobs as well. I’ve been called lazy and called others lazy (some when they truly were) because we were projecting our values on each other. But when it comes down to it, my lifestyle choice is mine, and theirs is theirs.

I have several friends, all younger, who have big homes, several kids, matching SUVs and are scrambling to pay their mortgage and live their American dream. And they are truly happy – challenged at times – but happy. I would enjoy the pool, the vacations, the kids, the yard and the dog, for about a month – then I’d be severely depressed. That lifestyle to me is like a pair of golden handcuffs – shiny, pretty, but restricting. Every decision you make is based on whether it will help or hurt your ability to maintain that lifestyle. I’d like all the stuff – but not enough to commit to doing whatever I had to to keep up that particular lifestyle. Stuff doesn’t matter to me – relationship does. Am I lazy for not chasing it? I don’t think so.

I was once involved with an alcoholic who came with a large extended family, a beach house, nieces and nephews and the sort of family (Thanksgiving, Christmas etc) I wished I’d had as a child. But the drinking, the lack of intimacy, the fights, mistrust, misery and all the things that go with having an alcoholic and non-supportive spouse weren’t enough to keep me living the house-with-a-picket-fence dream. It reminded me too much of my childhood (surprise!). So I left. I’m much, much, much, much happier now than I ever was then. I miss the family stuff, but I’ve found other ways to meet that need – including finding healthy friends and social networks where I feel that same sense of belonging.

So I’m taking care of myself, paying my own bills, and yet until I read Stephen’s post today I didn’t realize my “unhappiness” has come NOT from my spartan lifestyle – but from feeling like I have to defend or fight off people who are telling me how I should be living. I’m unhappy at times because I’m still trying to live just “normal” enough to make other people happy. I’m not focusing enough on ME.

I quietly severed ties recently to another friend who obviously thought my lifestyle wasn’t appropriate. She made comments about everything from the color of my office curtains to the fact I’m still living in, and driving my van. I quit returning her calls and haven’t heard from her in awhile – which is good.

I was thinking about that, then I remembered a friend of my brother’s. He comes from a wealthy family, but after a horrific accident changed his life, he took a different path than the med school, law school, business expectations people had for him. I don’t think he’s ever seriously looked back. He now chooses to make a good living selling t-shirts and hang-gliding. He’s very good at what he does and is very well known for both his designs and his athleticism. Here’s a video – you can see for yourself. He too gets asked, “How can you live like that?” And his answer is perfect, “The pay-off is worth managing the risk.” He’s doing what he loves – flying. If you wonder if the accident changed his life – made him love the freedom of flying more than life on one leg – possibly. But life changes us all, shapes us all.

The point is, I just realized I was focusing more on “How can you live like that?” than on deciding exactly HOW I want to live. It’s a subtle point – but an important one. I’m off to think about it. Do you know how YOU want to live as opposed to how others expect you to be living? Leave a comment. I need the inspiration!

“I don’t feel good daddy.” He put one hand on her head and looked down in concern before stooping to hug her.

“Okay,” he said, smoothing her hair back with one hand and feeling for a temperature. He kissed her forehead. “We won’t be long. Let me get these stamps and then we’ll go home.” She looked up at him and nodded. The line moved slowly forward. They stood, side-by-side until they reached the window.

She swayed and hung listlessly, reaching for his hand as he let go of her to pull out his wallet and pay for the stamps and hand the clerk his package.

They almost made it out the door before “I don’t feel so good,” became projectile vomiting – all over the tutu, all over daddy, all over the floor.

He stopped. He knelt down. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket as he watched her struggle with the next wave of nausea. As he watched the tiny mouth open he picked her up and held her up so she could vomit into the trash can. Her pink tutu trembled and he whispered in her ear and kissed the top of her head. He knelt again and wiped her mouth carefully with the handkerchief and found a piece of candy in a pocket.

“It’s okay,” he said matter-of-factly. “Sometimes people get sick. It’s okay. It’ll wash out. I’m worried about you. How do you feel?” And he wiped and he reassured and he calmly took a handful of paper towels someone handed him and cleaned up his fairy princess and himself as best he could, smiling kindly the whole time. Slowly, patiently. No rush. We’re okay. It’s all okay. And then he held her hand and they walked out to the car.

It is in the small things our love shines through.

Man mistakes urinal and urinal cake for sink and soap

If you’re going to make a mistake, don’t make it on video. I have to wonder why he never stopped to look for the faucets. I admit I felt sorry for him – mostly because now his face will become famous and he’ll be known as the guy who washed his hands in a urinal.

So why is this worthy of a post? Because of the power of visuals. We are so conditioned to visual cues – ie. a trough and “cakes” of blue something that looked like soap, that we react without thinking. Even though I’m sure his sense of smell and other cues alerted him to the fact this was indeed not what it appeared to be, he went forward anyway. I’m stunned by how the brain can play these tricks on us all. Maybe not in such obvious ways – but there are times, admit it, that you assume a person who looks a certain way or acts a certain way IS a certain way. The things that come to mind are “mentally ill.” Or “Special needs.”  For years people avoided people who had cancer because they believed it was contagious.

I met the wife of a friend of mine last summer. She had never seen my photo or any video of me. Her husband told her they would be having lunch with a formerly homeless person. When she met me the shock on her face was obvious. She stared for a few minutes and then said, “But you look so healthy. You’re so intelligent.”  I had totally blown her preconception of what a homeless person looks like. We laughed, but for me it re-enforced the reality that we almost operate on auto-pilot when it comes to how we see the world. Stop and be in the moment. Think. Listen. Pay attention to the visual cues you’re getting. You may not notice any difference, but I can guarantee this gentleman will never repeat this mistake again.

I learned that the average age of a prostitute in this country is 12 years old. The girls and boys involved in the sex trade as prostitutes or in pornography are 12-14 years old. If you have a daughter or son for that matter, stop reading now and think about them. Can you imagine them being sold into slavery and forced to be prostitutes for dozens of men – often that many in an evening?

What does this have to do with homelessness? The fact is, many of these children run away from home and are homeless when they enter the sex trades. They have no other way to earn money to eat, and can’t find a place to live. Some have parent problems. Some are abused. Some are kidnapped. They share a common story – a lack of love, no hope and a dependence on a horrific life style if they want to live.

The sexual exploitation of children has rocketed out of control thanks to the internet, and to places like Craigslist.org. who, according to the New York Times, rake in more than $26 million dollars a year in sex ad revenue.

I don’t think most people can imagine, or want to try – to think about what it’s like to be a child in that sort of situation. But Emily has dared to. She started Hope House in North Carolina to house, shelter, protect and teach victims of sex slavery and prostitution how to break free, empower themselves and learn to love who they are. People have stepped forward to help -funding her operation and volunteering to work with the girls -all of whom are home-schooled at the facility. Part of healing from child-hood sexual abuse is learning to play again. And Emily does that. But she needs help. She’s asking for the following items or donations of any size to help her purchase them for the house. She didn’t ask me to post this, but I am. You can read about the house, the program and Emily – who escaped from a life of addiction herself. She knows how difficult a journey it is. All I’m asking is that if you have new board games, stuffed animals, age appropriate games etc. or any of the items Emily is asking for – that you send them to her, or donate $5 or $10 on her website so she can continue to help provide a safe place for these children – if only 8 or 10 girls at a time. If you want to do more – provide books, school supplies or “gift bags” that she takes to the bars and strip clubs for the single mothers who spend mother’s day dancing to support their children – contact her at the address below. And thank you.

* Trampoline for yard (with net)
* Badminton Game
* Tickets to any amusement parks, water parks, etc.
* Piano Lessons
* Boxing Lessons
* Christian Concert Tickets

Emily Fitchpatrick
emilyfitchpatrick [at] yahoo [dot] com
OEW Hope House
P.O. Box 9737
Asheville, NC 28815
www.hopehousenc.com

I just finished reading Safe People: How to Find Relationships That Are Good for You and Avoid Those That Aren’t by Dr. Henry Cloud/John Townsend. If you read my blog regularly you know I LOVE all the books these guys write. They’re incredible! They go into the 20 traits of safe and unsafe people. But what I like about this book is they talk about how what YOU (the reader) do to be unsafe for other people as well.

Do you judge? Do you criticize? Do you blow off friends who need your help when they’ve given you help in the past? Are you there for them? Do you listen? Do you respect them? Do you share your needs and vulnerabilities or do you strive to maintain an “I’m perfect” front at all times?

Human relationships are complex, but the old adage about the golden rule still holds true – do unto others…. If you want to be a safe person, connect, honor, share, listen, support and respect others and seek out those who do the same for you. That’s what it all boils down to. And that takes us back to boundaries. If you don’t have them, there’s no way you’re ever going to spot someone who is not safe. Why? Because you don’t have a standard to judge them by.

I have a rule. If someone brutally criticizes me (usually an acquaintance or co-worker) and I haven’t invited them to do so, I say: “It’s a rule of mine – I really don’t welcome uninvited personal criticism from anyone but people I’m really close to, and then I ask that it’s done in a supportive, respectful way. What you just said feels like verbal abuse to me and I don’t allow anyone to do that to me. We need to talk about something else or our conversation is over.” I’m protecting myself. If that person immediately apologizes and doesn’t ever do it again, then they’ve demonstrated they may be a safe person because they respect my boundaries. If they do it again, they get one more warning. “I mentioned that before about verbal abuse and you apologized, but I’m concerned that it’s happening again. If it happens again I really don’t think we can be friends.”

Online I just delete their comment, or ignore them. The world is full of trolls. Another rule of mine is “Don’t feed the trolls.” Disengage.

When you develop and enforce good boundaries you learn who the safe people are or who they aren’t because you’ve developed a system that alerts you to things that feel hurtful. Over time you train your body to recognize unsafe people because you know what your boundaries are – so when they are violated you don’t have to think too much about them. You’ve just been nudged to pay attention.

One of the primary reasons I fell into believing I was homeless was because I had poor boundaries. I allowed people to tell me who I was rather than standing up for myself and countering their opinion of me with my own opinion. People who are homeless, jobless, addicts – all have a huge social perception to tackle, in addition to dealing with their other issues. It’s hard. But by developing good boundaries any of us can take that first step to finding safe, supportive relationships that help us grow. Look at your boundaries today. What are they?

A few years ago I did a favor for a friend. I taught her how to replace the spark plug in her riding lawn mower. I spent 30 minutes showing her how to do it, and another hour running around with her to various auto parts stores to find the spark plug socket because she was “intimidated” by auto parts stores and didn’t know what she was looking for. For about two hours of my time and hers, she saved about $50 bucks.

I do a lot for friends and don’t even consider the cost of my time or what I lose by doing that sort of thing. It’s what I do. But I was struck by how angry she was to see how easy it was to replace a spark plug, and how angry she got at how much small engine repair places charge for doing that. I pointed out it wasn’t replacing the spark plug that cost her – it was knowing HOW to do it. She didn’t get it.

Then she complained that I “made” her buy the socket ($8) to replace her spark plug because she would only use it once whereas I owned “tools” and this would be another tool I could own – as though the mere act of owning tools somehow gave me pleasure (not owning a lawn mower, I would NEVER use it, but she assumed it would be something I would enjoy owning so she could borrow it if need be and not have to pay for it herself). She complained about how much everything but MY time cost. She took me for granted and took the time I invested in her for granted.She didn’t value my time because I didn’t.

She called a few months after that and wanted me to explain to her how to do Public Relations, how to interview someone, and to ask me to write up a pitch script she could read for convincing television and radio stations to interview her clients. She would be getting paid for this. This was all for a new job she got by telling the recruiter she knew how to do these things, but actually had never ever done them. She wanted me to train her essentially. She didn’t see it that way, but I did.

“It’ll only take you a minute,” she said. “You’re so good at it and I need this job.” (She didn’t need the job. She’s a trust fund baby who keeps more money in her checking account than I’ve ever made in my entire life.) I pointed out it would take no less than 3 hours just to write the script and a day or more to train her, then to be around when she had questions. Two weeks was NOT “just a minute.” And it would be time I wouldn’t be making a living myself.

I said sure, “For $1,500.” I explained that I write those sorts of things for a living and teach people to do those things, for a living. What I could teach her for $1,500 would make her far more money than that – she’d clear that the first month. She was furious. She somehow believed she had a right to MY time. She didn’t talk to me for two years and then it was I who initiated the next contact when I was in town and wanted to see if she wanted to have lunch. She assumed we weren’t friends because I had said no to doing that for free, and enforced my boundaries regarding my time by charging for my time. She didn’t understand that a friend can say no and still be a friend. Boundaries.

I once had a client hire me to write a book. He agreed to pay my rate, and then got excited when he realized I had enough material for two books. So he asked me expand the material into two books. I agreed, but told him I had three other projects I was working on and needed more time. He said okay and I finished the project. He seemed happy, or so he said. Then later he complained about how MY delay screwed up production on his second book. Now, get this, I wasn’t the one who wanted the second book. I expanded it at his request, not mine. The second book will make him WAY more money than just one book.

HE was the one making all the decisions. I just set my boundaries and told him what MY time constraints were. Now I’m the bad guy? I’m quite proud I set those boundaries and respected the time and commitments to other clients. I can’t change him and don’t want to try, but in the future I’ll be sure to be extra clear about time and boundaries.

Now he’s pissed and blaming ME for the headaches of rescheduling his life and graphics team to do a second book. It’s MY fault he stressed – or so he thinks. No, it’s actually NOT. It’s his for not finishing the ONE book, then scheduling the second for later instead of trying to save money and pinch pennies by doing them at the same time. He respected HIS time and boundaries, but not mine.

Another “friend” of mine used to be consistently late to lunch with me. 15-45 minutes late. EVERY time. She laughs about it, but now she laughs alone. She assumed I had time to sit around waiting on her to arrive. “You always bring something to do and you’re always early,” she said. “So it’s not like you’re not doing something.” Wrong. I have things I schedule for after lunch – and if I wait until she arrives and then order late, then I have to rush to eat and it makes me ill and I don’t enjoy it. So I explained all that and the next time she was late I said, “I really enjoy lunch with you, but I really hate it when you’re late every time. I will wait no more than ten minutes for you. I will order whether you’re here or not and I will leave when I finish eating if I have another appointment or something to do.” She laughed.

The next time she was 30 minutes late. I had already ordered and she was surprised that the waitress brought my order shortly after she sat down. I finished eating, chatted for a few minutes, then left – leaving her to eat most of her meal alone. She was not happy. The next time we met for lunch she was on time. We had a great time. The next time she was 40 minutes late, I ordered and ate, and I passed her in the lobby as I was leaving the restaurant on my way to another appointment. We don’t do lunch anymore unless we happen to be together and get hungry. I have boundaries. One boundary I set for myself is respecting my time.

Do you know what these three people have in common? NONE of them has good boundaries. None of them respect other people’s time. That’s not a problem if WE respect our own time, set boundaries and do our thing while they do theirs. But so many of us are caught up in the same kind of life they are – and we don’t understand our own boundaries – nor do we respect them. So, other people don’t either. So we get into all kinds of emotional grief because of our expectations, or lack of expectations…it’s like playing the game of life with no rules and no, well, boundaries. No one knows where the lines are, or what to do. So they muddle along feeling angry, put upon, taken advantage of and pissed off because they can’t figure out why other people aren’t “respecting them.”

When we’re dysfunctional like that, and have no boundaries what we’re doing is assuming and expecting other people will take care of us, or turn their lives inside out to accommodate us. Or worse, we do the same – putting our own interests aside to take care of other people and then feel used and angry because they don’t appreciate us.

And if we are co-dependent – chances are, we will keep doing that, never stopping to wonder how to change it. It feels soooo familiar – so it “must” be right, we think. And we assume we’ve just met a bad apple. Then we go on to the next person, who is the same, and then the next and the next. It becomes our life and we hate it. It leads to a lot of grief and heartache, manipulation and frustration as we go around trying to control other people to get what we want, and allowing them to control us to get what they want. You simply can’t do that unless you like living your life like a bad soap opera.

I’ve spent the last two years learning about boundaries. I’m not perfect at it, but I’m so much better than I was. I credit Dr. Henry Cloud and his books, particularly The One-Life Solution: Reclaim Your Personal Life While Achieving Greater Professional Success but he has literally dozens of books on boundaries and I’ve never been disappointed in any of them.

I’m writing about time, my time, your time…because I think it’s important that we realize that when we respect our own time we begin to notice that a lot of other people don’t. And when we notice that other people aren’t respecting our time, we realize they aren’t respecting us. And if they aren’t respecting us, why do we want them in our life?

I’m culling people now….people who don’t understand that no simply means no, and it isn’t the end of our relationship and I’m not mad, I’m just setting boundaries. I’m not selfish, I’m just taking care of myself like adults do. I’m culling people who only expect me to things do for them, but who never reciprocate – or reciprocate begrudgingly while pouting like a five-year-old. These are people who only reciprocate because they think they have to in order to force me to do something down the road – PURE manipulation.

I’m culling people who understand it’s okay to ask me for anything, but who don’t understand it’s NOT okay to whine and complain, or to pitch a fit and act hateful when I say no. I’m culling people who don’t respect me. It’s really opening up my plate and I like it. You might want to try it. When we clean out the clutter in our lives – be it people, bad habits, dysfunction or emotional baggage – there’s so much more room for the good people, effective habits and true love and happiness. I hope you find yours. I’m finding mine.

I love serendipity. It gifts me with the most amazing people when I pay attention. I write for Airstream Life Magazine on occasion. And I recently got an email from the editor about a possible story after a photographer sent him some photos. Nice photos. Nice photographer. Great story. But then serendipity stepped in. Being insanely curious I started talking to the photographer (Alison Turner) because, well, I like to hear people’s stories. Turns out Alison likes to live out of her car just like me. She has a house, but she rents it out and goes on the road because she likes to travel. And she likes to take pictures. And she likes people’s stories too – only she captures them with her camera. Which brings me to the point of this post. Alison has a little “point and click” camera – the kind you can pick up at any CVS or Walgreens, or a big box retailer.

It’s the kind of camera that, when she took a “Photography class” and brought it out – people sneered. Not the full frontal in-your face sneer, but the “I just caught a whiff of poverty,” sneer. The elitist sneer. You know the one – the smug look, the shifting in the chair, the “Oh, she can’t be serious,” thoughts that run across their face sneer. We’ve all experienced. It’s the one crafted to invoke shame and inadequacy in us. But Alison didn’t let it deter her, and she still doesn’t. Because, for Alison, photography is about what she can capture NOW. She doesn’t need the tools to do what she does.

As a Pulitzer award winning photographer once told me, “Becky, most of the Pulitzer winning photos over the last century were taken with what were essentially the equivalents of a Brownie camera. It’s not the camera [tool], it’s the photographer behind the camera.”

Alison is one of those photographers. I think she could take great pictures with a cheap cell phone. She has an eye for people, for scenes, for story. She’s amazing. And she’s shooting photos for me to illustrate my stories!

What I love about her is that she gets excited. When I call her and tell her I got an assignment for a national magazine and want her photos she still reacts like I do – squealing and happy and real and in the moment. Like great writers, artists and photographers do – we FEEL and express our emotions. There’s no “being cool,” there’s only being real. And that real flows out of her, into her world, opening her up for possibility.

I look at her work and visual candy doesn’t do it the justice it deserves. Yes, I wish she had the sharp resolution and clarity in her work of a professional camera. Great lenses DO make a difference there, but composition, soul, clarity of story – you can’t get that with a million dollar camera if you don’t have that in you. And if you have that million dollar camera and don’t have the chops to spot great content – your photos will suck in a different way.

I meet so many people who tell me, “I want to be a writer. I want to write a book – but I can’t because I don’t have a computer.” Or, “I don’t have that new writing software…” or whatever. They think the tools will make them great. Here’s a tip. I write my best stuff on a .49 cent legal pad – the ones I buy in bulk at Wal-mart or the dollar store. Libraries have free computers. Yeah, it’s a pain. But if you want to write, you do it. If you want to be a photographer, if you want to capture people and tell their stories – you do it. Don’t wait for the tools. Do what you can with what you’ve got. I want to travel the US in an RV. I have a 35-year old van. I’m not letting the tools stop me. I have to roll down the window and open the door from the outside because the door crank gear is stripped out. But it gets me from point A to point B where I can write. Don’t let tools, or the lack of them, stand in your way. Alison’s not and neither should you. Now go. You’re missing life.

P.S.
Alison has a series of photos on Facebook -a series called “People in their Habitat.” It’s remarkable. I’ve posted some of her work here so you can appreciate it since I think you have to be a *friend* to view the Facebook link. These are all copyrighted. She sells her work – prints or shoots for hire, so contact her. Or contact me and I’ll put you in touch with her.

Not only was she efficient, friendly and good at what she does, she was willing to work with me on this shoot – and climb around in the van, brave my dog Koko, and all the stuff that makes a good photographer good. I hate getting in front of a camera. It reminds me I need to be losing weight, and makes me feel like I’m trying on new swimsuits on a *fat* day. But she made me feel at ease. The photos are for an article to appear in Motivated Magazine (http://motivatedonline.com) or available at most airports and at Barnes & Noble, or by subscription.

She’s at 313 Second Street SE #106 in Charlottesville, VA and I’m really happy with the photos she took today. If you need great photos – check out her site – (434) 963-7976. You’ll be glad you did!

Photo above: YMCA Coach Dan Blankenship talks to his runners shortly before their last training run before the Monument Ave. 10K in Richmond on March 27.

I just posted my first blog at Change.org about a Richmond, VA coach who coached 19 people to their first 10K this winter. The men and women will be racing Saturday, March 27th at the Monument Ave 10K here in Richmond. The intro to the story begins:

More than 37,000 runners will compete in Saturday’s Monument Avenue 10k in Richmond, Virginia. For at least 19 participants, crossing the finish line represents something extra special. They’re all homeless, in various stages of transition, from living in shelters and unemployed, to working full-time and transitioning out of shelters back into homes and jobs. Training for and finishing this 10k has been one way they’ve all learned to set a goal, achieve it and feel good about themselves.

What makes this story so remarkable is what I call the “butterfly effect” (the idea that the flap of a butterfly’s wings in Brazil can set off a tornado in Texas). It’s all happening because a woman named Anne Mahlum in Philadelphia dared to make a difference in her community. Read the entire story at: Change.org. http://homelessness.change.org/blog/view/the_finish_line_is_just_the_beginning_for_homeless_runners.

I write a lot about “The Butterfly Effect.” Because I believe everything we say and do makes a ripple. Some of them are huge, others merely persistent. Just when you think one person can’t make a difference, you see that they actually can and do…..This is one of those stories. I hope you’ll visit change.org and read it. Every “hit” or view the page gets sends a message – that stories of HOPE are important, that ONE person CAN make a difference. It’s an amazing thing. Become part of it.

I still have to sign the contracts, get my marching orders and the usual stuff you do when you get a new job, but I’ve just become a hired blogger. It looks like I’ll be writing once or twice a week for Change.org’s website on homelessness. I’m joining a great staff, most of whom, I noticed – are from the west coast and upper east coast. There’s one other writer from Northern Virginia (Arlington), but I didn’t see any writers who hail from the south. Whew! All the more topics to choose from!

Being homeless in a rural area is a lot more difficult in many ways than being homeless in a large city. There are fewer resources, fewer cops – but of the police there are – they quickly come to know you’re homeless and are more likely to harass you. Small towns may have one or no shelter system in place. There are fewer resources and more dangers as gangs typically control mid-sized towns like Danville, VA. For those who are comfortable being in the woods, it’s fairly easy to disappear into the vast, forested lands where only hunters trod. Hunting cabins and trailers, sheds and other rough shelters often double as housing for the rural homeless. It’s a rough life – sparse or no public transportation, no shower access.

People in a small town are less likely to be sympathetic to addicts unless they are potential religious converts. Yet they’re more tolerant of the mentally ill. It’s almost impossible to be homeless and go unnoticed, as small town residents notice everything. Since I’ll be on the road soon, I’m looking forward to covering the challenges, news and reality of being homeless in the south. I’ll be posting my stories at Change.org. So please check it out from time to time. I’ll also be writing about van and car dwelling and a range of topics unique to the south. It ought to be fun and interesting.

Christopher Scott Emmett was convicted in October 2001 of the April 27, 2001, capital murder and robbery of his co-worker, John Langley, in Danville, Virginia. On November 2, 2001, Emmett was sentenced to death. On May 30, 2007 I received word that I was one of the media selected to view Emmett’s execution on June 13. How does one prepare to view and cope with an execution? This is my journal of that journey. My thoughts about this are not right or wrong, they’re simply mine.

That paragraph was how I started the first ever blog I wrote. For the next year I would follow Emmett’s story, ultimately leaving the newspaper with PTSD before Emmett was finally put to death. During that year I simply wrote about my experience. And from day one, it wasn’t anything like I expected. What follows is the first post to that blog. If you want to read the rest of it, you can go to the blog itself at: http://apublicdeath.blogspot.com. The reason I’m posting it here is I’m about to hit the road again and find people who move me as much as that experience did. I don’t want to be moved in a negative way, although that is a possibility. I do want to be moved to share stories as openly and rawly as I did that one. So it begins:

* * * * * * * *

The first thing you learn on the rescue squad is not to look into the victim’s eyes. It “personalizes” them, makes them human and gets you feeling sorry, sad, mad at the accident and emotionally distracted. Looking into a person’s eyes does a lot of things – and most of all it makes things after that intensely personal – particularly if they’re in crisis. Look between the eyes, look at the forehead, but don’t get caught in their gaze. It’s deadly, you’re told. You can’t do your job if you’re emotionally distraught. It’s nothing personal – and keep it that way. And most do, be they cops, nurses, emergency room personnel or firefighters. They know the dance.

Journalists do the same. Feature writers WANT to look into the eyes. They want to connect. Want to write great feature articles? Spend as much time learning to look honestly and fearlessly into people’s eyes as you do learning to craft a lead. Investigative reporters on the other hand – learn to study their notebooks, to look at their surroundings, to look between their subject’s eyes. They don’t want to see the human side unless it adds to the story. It’s hard to ruin someone’s life no matter how evil they’ve been, if you’ve connected with their eyes. The really good reporters can do that you know. They can look into the eyes, then back out again and do their job. They know the dance.

I learned well – maybe too well, not to look when it might be painful. When I first got the form asking if I wanted to submit my name for selection as a media witness to an execution I said “Yes, of course.” After 22 years as a journalist there aren’t many stories I haven’t done. An execution is one of them. At that point I hadn’t looked into Emmett’s eyes and I sure didn’t plan to.

I was working on the story first. In my mind I was thinking angles and leads and what I would say when I had to brief other reporters outside the prison afterward. I was doing my job. The “briefing others before filing my story,” I was told, was part of being selected. Never, in my entire career as a journalist, have I been told to tell a competitor all I had witnessed before I filed my own story. Now I was being asked to and it ruffled me.

Then Al Tompkins, of Poynter.org responded to my email to him about that and said, “This is not a time to try to play the scoop game. You are about to see a human die – it is more than a newspaper story.”

Indeed it is. And with that, I caught my first glimpse into Christopher Scott Emmett’s eyes.

Before the day was over I would catch another….

He’s been on Oprah, led seminars all over the country and been active and serious about a very serious issue – housing – the third most common cause for homelessness in America next to addiction and mental illness.

To date, Jay’s approach has been to “Pretty much just live my life in a small footprint and hope that my example might inspire others to do the same.”

As we all know, that doesn’t work so much. Not when Television networks like HGTV and the DIY channels keep giving away castles and mansions and glorifying the addition of thousands of square footage to homes for a couple and their dogs.

He’s tired of being a pacifist. GOOD for him.

Jay wrote his followers recently:

“On Wednesday, March 3 at roughly 7:00pm at the Hopmonk Tavern in Sebastopol, CA. Jay will be taking a somewhat more active approach. Ignite Sebastopol 3 is part of Global Ignite Week. Roughly a dozen speakers from the Bay Area will be given just twenty slides and five minutes each to present their subjects. I will be using my time to rip America’s system of imposed excess a new body part. My distain for the building codes that restrict how small a house can be is no secret. On March 3rd I’ll be making my position all the more clear. All presentations will be recorded and posted for international viewing.

We’re expecting a full house (~130 inside, and others watching the live feed to a screen in the outdoor Beer Garden), so get your tickets early.

I see this as a great way to kick off a period of more active activism in which I will be working to convince the International Code Council that International Residential Code (sections 304.1,2 &3 in particular) needs revision. I don’t expect this to be easy. The road ahead is likely to be a long one for all opposed to size prohibition- one full of marches and demonstrations, possible jail time and the all the fun stuff seemingly integral to social change. I’m already working on my “I Have a Tiny Dream” speech and bracing for the possibility of my own tiny Waco. I hope everyone else out there in favor of housing rights will start thinking about what they can do to help. I will, of course, be using our website to keep folks posted about marches, sit-ins, stand-offs and other fun ways to get involved.”

What Jay is talking about is how building codes and zoning ordinances conspire to prevent sustainable, small foot print homes of 500 square feet and less. Because a county can’t make as much tax on small homes as they can on large ones, they keep increasing the mandatory size of homes. This shuts most Americans out of the American dream of home ownership since most of us can’t afford a half-million dollar, 1,200 square foot home. We CAN afford a 200 to 400 square foot home for $50,000 or less.

I don’t know if he’ll go to jail or not, but the important thing is, he’s willing to, to stand up for a cause he believes in. I think with the economy, the timing is right. I’m behind him 100%. You go Jay!

Viva la Tiny Revolution!