The Starfish Thrower

A few weeks ago my husband Paul and I started pulling together our 2014 tax receipts. Even though we filed an extension for the year, I still wanted to get them done before the summer starts and we are in the throes of family activities.

He handed me a stack of yellow stickies and post-it notes with all sort of numbers written on them ($200, $20, $35, $150) and some that actually had notes on them (lunch, books, food).

“What the heck is all this? How am I supposed to account for this? What does this mean?” I scolded.

Paul had been providing some assistance to a few of his former students and other kids in need of some support -- and the yellow stickies served as receipts and a record of his itemized generosity. At first, I flipped out. Then, I was pissed at myself for being pissed at him.

I wasn’t upset because he was providing assistance and support for his students -- especially support for school supplies or food -- I was upset because he felt that I wouldn’t have been compassionate enough to “get it." Did he not think I would really understand or agree with his huge giving heart? Even our 8-year old son, Liam, who overheard our conversation, said that, "if other people need help, then we should help them out, right?" 

We talk a lot as a society about providing help to those who need it -- whether it is financial, emotional or just a listening heart and shoulder. But, when it comes down to it, how may of us really provide help to those who might need it—unconditionally.

I don’t consider myself a Democrat, a Republican, a Socialist or a Libertarian. I consider myself a humanitarian. And this whole idea that one small gesture, a smile, a quarter, a cup of coffee, a kind word can change the world is spot on. The whole "pay it forward" movement is brilliant and can drive real positive changes.

Someone on Facebook recently shared the story of the Starfish (I have posted it below).  My husband is that person, he makes a difference. Even though we have fundamental differences about many, many, many things in this lifetime, I am in love with his ongoing and unwavering kindness to others -- especially his students (current and former). Thanks for being that bright light for so many and for being a real life "starfish thrower." 

Once upon a time, there was an old man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach every morning before he began his work. Early one morning, he was walking along the shore after a big storm had passed and found the vast beach littered with starfish as far as the eye could see, stretching in both directions. 

Off in the distance, the old man noticed a small boy approaching.  As the boy walked, he paused every so often and as he grew closer, the man could see that he was occasionally bending down to pick up an object and throw it into the sea.  The boy came closer still and the man called out, “Good morning!  May I ask what it is that you are doing?”

The young boy paused, looked up, and replied “Throwing starfish into the ocean. The tide has washed them up onto the beach and they can’t return to the sea by themselves,” the youth replied. “When the sun gets high, they will die, unless I throw them back into the water.”

The old man replied, “But there must be tens of thousands of starfish on this beach. I’m afraid you won’t really be able to make much of a difference.”

The boy bent down, picked up yet another starfish and threw it as far as he could into the ocean. Then he turned, smiled and said, “It made a difference to that one!”

adapted from The Star Thrower, by Loren Eiseley (1907 – 1977)

#Bringbackourgirls

Yesterday, April 14th, marked the one-year anniversary that over 200 school-girls were kidnapped from their dormitory by the terrorist group Boko Haram. 

These girls were studying for their exams! And in the middle of the night, armed men ripped them from their beds. #bringbackourgirls was the viral rally cry all over social media. Many questions still exist; but the fact remains that many of the girls have still not been brought back to their families, their homes, their friends, their siblings, their school.

A few weeks ago, one of my best girlfriends (Tiffany Grosso) and I attended an Eve Ensler Production of “Emotional Creature.” The productions are done all over the US to raise money to end violence against women and girls around the world!

Emotional Creature is Eve's musical about the thoughts, struggles, and triumphs of girls -- from deciding on the right kind of boots to deciding how to escape being sold into sex trafficking. It is about the issues girls around the world face and despite the very different situations what it means to survive as a girl today.

One short skit done before the show was about three middle-aged American women who had just embarked on a girls-weekend vacation. One of the women (a corporate CEO) had taken the other two on a surprise trip using her private jet. All three were excited for a crazy few days together – away from the pressures of kids, husbands, home-life and work. The two other women – along for the ride-- are giddy as they stand in the middle of the jungle asking “What are we going to do? Where are we? What fun do you have in store for us?”

The CEO says to the two of them, “We have done so much in our lives. We have run marathons, built companies from the ground up, had children, gotten married, beat cancer and accomplished many things.”

She pulls out three guns and hands them to her friends, “And now we are going to get those girls back!”

The other two look at their friend with horror, wondering if she gone mad. They are just regular women, not fighters, not military. How can they actually go get over 200 girls who have been kidnapped and being held hostage?

“You wanted to do something that mattered; you wanted to do something exciting; well here we are. I am sick of just tweeting about it. I am sick of raising money for things, doing fundraisers, talking, drinking wine and writing checks. Nothing ever happens. Remember in college, we were going to “take back the night?" Well, did we? NO. I am sick and tired of it. So, I am going to do something about it. Are you girls in?”

The friends are still horrified, and it takes some convincing, but they agree to join in the fight to go get those girls back. They are tired of the rhetoric and feeling powerless. “Let’s go get those girls.”

A very intense and powerful scene!

Don’t you feel like those women sometimes? I know I do. I know for many attending the show, this was one of the most powerful scenes of the night. It resonated. Tiffany is an activists; she has produced and directed multiple V-day shows; danced for 1 Million Rising; is a healer, a life coach, a Reiki and a masseuse; a mom of three young boys; a wife; and a thought leader.  She and I have raised a ton of money for charities. We have run marathons for cancer, leukemia, domestic violence and children’s groups. We have given to the Sandy Hook promise for gun violence and Moms Demand Action. 

Yet, terrible stuff still exists in the world, and it hard to still watch it exist. 

Like the actors in the skit, we tweeted about those girls too. We tweeted to do something about gun control; about the 26 angels killed a Sandy Hook. We tweeted and posted on Facebook hashtags for social change…. #blacklivesmatter #icantbreathe #freetibet #torture #genderequality #nofracking #endracism #marriageequality #transgenersupport #savethetatas; #sextrafficing #humantrafficing #vday #1millionrising  and so many others.

We ARE those women on the stage. We share the frustration, the feeling of being powerless -- the heartache.  We want a world for girls that is safe and worth living in. And really, not just for girls, but for everyone.

Yesterday, students and families around the world marched together for the Global School Girl March. I didn't march because I was on a plane traveling and life, work, kids, bills, sleep all get in the way. But, I sure wanted to!

Because being dropped in the middle of the jungle isn't an option at this point!

What the heck is “Unboxing?”

I admit it; sometimes I need the iPad to babysit my boys. I have work to do, laundry to fold, a conversation I need to have on the phone. Sometimes, I just need a minute or 15 for myself to quiet my brain.

But, it is never quiet when the iPad is on and my kids are watching those horrible videos of other kids “unboxing” toys and various trinkets.  What the heck is unboxing? Ya, it is some horrible made-up word that means “opening up a box or a toy.” When I grew up we said “Let’s open it!” Unboxing… geez.

After watching lots of these little videos on Youtube, my boys then expect that we can just walk into a toy store and load up on the newest Skylanders and have an unboxing party of our own—and of course it will all be caught on video and uploaded on YouTube.

Word to you mother… we cannot, nor do I want to do that! But, these videos just set this false expectation. From EvanTube (who I guess is a millionaire at 8-years old) to Skylander Shorts (which is a family affair that includes Skylander Dad, Skylander Mom, Skylander Girl, Boy and Baby), it is frankly annoying and lame that these parents have pimped their kids out to market the latest and greatest do-dads and toys. Am I jealous? Em.. no. If I had to go “Skylander hunting” across Target and Toys R Us daily, I would die.

After watching EvanTube and his sister eat disgusting BeanBoozled jellybeans, all I heard about for over a week was how we needed to buy these gross jellybeans so that we could try them out. Seriously? The game is that you spin the wheel and it lands on a type of jellybean -- for instance a green one, or a yellow one. You have to eat the particular color that you land on. But, the fun part is that you aren't sure if the taste will be something gross, like the taste of boogers or it could be something nice like green apple. Sort of like a Russian Roulette of grossness.

Guess who bought the grossness game after we had watched it about 20 bagillion times on YouTube? Yup. This mom! A sucker for marketing and for my kids. 

I hate being a judge-y parent, and I try not to be that person. But, come on… why are we pimping out our kids like this? And why are my kids enjoying it is another question all together!

Can we quit with the “unboxing already?" Come on parents, can't we make a pact?

Asking for Help: My Six Commandments

I have always been terrible about asking for help – even when I need it the most. But, I am getting better. 

Why? I guess I used to think asking for help was perceived as a sign of weakness or ignorance, implying that I couldn’t get my work done on my own or that I couldn’t get it together in my personal life. I also think I am a bit of a perfectionist, a control freak, (yes, me) and that I can do IT ALL – better, in less time, the way I want it, etc. It just has always seemed easier to to do it myself. But what I really needed was to get over myself!

As a solo, independent and self-sustaining freelancer, I sort of like the feeling of autonomy and not having to rely on anyone. But after seven years of running my own business, I have realized that this really can't be a sustainable model. Asking for help can only… help!

I did a little research about my resistance and come to find out I am not alone! Self-reliance is one of the 10 core values that have been documented in national surveys, and while it’s an admirable trait, it’s also self-limiting. In today’s organizations, you can’t be successful if you don’t ask for what you need.

And there is something else that I have learned in my quest: successful people ask for help. Call it what you will—building a team, outsourcing, collaborating, delegating, etc.—it all amounts to asking for help. 

Many of us are hardwired NOT to ask for help. We think it makes us appear weak. We think we have to be superwomen.

After thinking about this concept and reading about help, I outlined a list of six commandments.

1. It is OK not to be perfect
2. When you help others, other people want to help you back
3. Asking for help is a sign of strength, not weakness
4. You can actually get more done with other people 
5. You don’t get extra credit for doing anything alone
6. Successful people ask for help

I recently worked on this short-term project for a client that required some incredible, neck-breaking turn around times. The deliverable were things like “turn around 72 pages of web content in three weeks.” Or write eight technical overviews in two weeks and get layout, design and content all approved, and finalized.

For those of you in my business, you know that these are practically impossible deadlines—especially if you are doing them by yourself. So, I asked for help. I reached out to a brilliant designer, and she was thrilled to work with me and take on the task; an amazing writer, who can make sense of the craziest topics and her writing is simple prose, easy to understand and professional all around; and a long-time friend and former colleague whom I hadn’t spoke to for ages, but I knew he had the panache to pull off this project.

We came together as a team and started cranking stuff out—together. It was all about getting the right people for the job and building the right team! It was wonderful. I would have missed out on this experience if I hadn’t asked for the help.

I am just starting to apply this to my work life. I know I have a long way to go and need to apply this to my personal life too. 

I am getting there -- and I am learning that I do not have to do everything alone. I am applying what I have learned and my six commandments. Because that is what smart and successful people do. Right?

My team just won the Superbowl- so why am I not celebrating?

My 8-year old, Liam, is a Seattle Seahawks fan. I am not! I am New England Patriots fan - FOR LIFE! 

I admit, I have tried to raise my kids as Patriot's fans, but that didn't seem to work out in my favor. I put them in all the right gear, made them watch the games, told them about winning, but I lost the battle last year when the Seahawks won the Superbowl. The "Patriot fan" battle was over, and my 8-year old had spoken -- he had joined the 12th man crew. 

We both knew Sunday night's Superbowl match-up was going to be tough -- after all there would be a winner (the happy person) and a loser (the sad person). I hoped that my son would be the loser (I know, I am horrible!!) After all, he had just become a Seattle fan last year. He has many years to go to be a sports fan and a Seattle fan. Plus, he  just witnessed Seattle win the Superbowl last year. I mean, my last Pats Superbowl win was a WHOLE DECADE ago!

Sure I have seen the Pats win three Superbowls, but it hasn’t been since 2004. And, I felt like Patriot's fans had a whole lot on the line this year. We had to prove that we could still win the big game. We had to make up for the horrific feeling of losing to the New York Giants TWICE.  We had to prove something to all the defalte-gate haters; the trolls saying that the Pats haven't won since Spygate; the naysayers who said Brady is washed up; blah blah, yak yak and yada yada. 

I also felt this gnawing feeling that I didn't want the Patriots to become the new Buffalo Bills. Sorry Buffalo fans! (The Bills have the distinction of being the only team to advance to four Superbowls and losing them all!!)  I know we aren’t Buffalo; we have won three big game appearances! But, bragging rights and redemption from the Giants games, deflate-gate, cheating accusations, Patriots are getting old comments needed to get shut down -- our rep was on the line. The only way we could do that was with a big fat in-your-face WIN!

The whole game we watched and cheered together as a family-- just the four of us… my all-sports New England-hating husband, my Seattle fanatic son, and my little four-year old Owen, who was more or less playing with his Avengers and didn't really care who won as long as he could eat as many Cheetos as humanly possible. I was clearly alone in cheering for the Pat's quest to victory.

We all know what transpired in the last few minutes of the game… it has been rehashed a zillion, bagillion times. One minute left in regulation play, Seattle makes a monster catch and is bearing down on the New England end zone. 

I instinctively start to cry. I really couldn’t help myself. It was hard not too. I punched the couch and said out loud, "I am going to throw up!" Another Superbowl appearance- slowly slipping away.

I was emotional for sure. In those few seconds, Liam, my little sensitive soul, came over to me and started to hug me tight. “I don’t want you to be sad,” he said.  It was hard for me not be sad. I shared with him that sports will do that to you. They will make you want to cry, and puke and punch things. They will also make you happy, cry with elation and on-top of the world. All of these emotions -- driven by being a fan (which incidentally stands for fanatic!) 

As we stood there hugging and watching the last few plays of the game and the seconds tick down, we watched what everyone is calling the WORST play ever called in Superbowl history unfold. 

Interception by New England!! 

I looked a Liam; he looked a me! In that split second -- we were both crying. For the first time ever, I didn’t cheer or scream, or bust into a #TBT herkie cheerleader jump. I knew what had just happened. We had won the Superbowl. It was in the books! Liam knew what had happened too—his team had just blown it - BIG TIME. 

I couldn’t celebrate, I had to hold my son and let him cry and scream and throw things and well…. know what it was like to be a FAN!

We have all been there before. That horrible feeling. And here was my kid-- feeling so sad, upset, confused and heart broken! But, in those split seconds before the tide had turned and New England won the game, my boy had  compassion for me when I was feeling low. He was so caring, sensitive and selfless. He wasn't jumping up and down, screaming, cheering or pointing in my face! The game didn't matter at that point to him.

I got to celebrate on my own this week! I watched the celebrations that I DVRd. And I toasted to my team.

I just won’t be wearing my Pats gear for a while I am sure! (Well, at least not in the house when Liam is home!)