Dreams and Theme Music

I was just chatting with a friend about those moments in our lives when we're pursuing - or even living - our dreams, but we feel like frauds.

During grad school, I felt as if I were a fraud the entire time. I was just waiting for someone to discover that I had no idea what I was doing and then, in a very stern voice, ask me to leave. I cried most days.
And then I started to work on my thesis. I holed myself up in the radio lab and spent weeks working all night, sometimes even taking naps on the floor, using my coat as a pillow. I had somehow remembered that even if I hadn't gone to a big-named undergrad, or I didn't have the same newspaper background as my classmates, or I hadn't published a book, I still loved to work and give storytelling my best shot.
Eventually, I realized that maybe I wasn't a fraud as much as I was just a work-in-progress.

Same goes for my never-ending journey to define myself as a writer. I spend my days writing, thinking about writing, reading about writing, and still. I can't help but think I'm a fraud.

And then there was my friend, who is busily working at all hours of the day as an interior decorator, her lifelong dream. She dresses like a decorator - fashionably draped in fine cloths and textures with a touch of something fun, like an unexpected colorful broach. She talks like a designer, seeing the world through its visual beauties. She easily points out the details that make a room, a person, or even a joke special. And yet, as she finds herself swimming in stores surrounded by thousands of fabrics, she's not so sure if she's got it all together.

Yesterday, she received a little bit of validation after a visit with her old college professor, who's - of course - impressed with her work. Here's a little bit of something she just shared with me:
"I really needed that step back from my life which I tend to get overwhelmed and stressed and insecure about, and to realize that I actually am doing what I want to be doing. And that I am pretty successful. I don't think I knew that about myself. Lately I tend to feel like I am failing."

Oh!!! How glorious is that?! She is such a success already! Yet, she's in the midst of those trying, delicate moments when we are wanting - so badly - to be great at something. We are trying so hard, that all we can see are the mistakes!
Don't we all do that? We make so many mistakes along the way, that we somehow think, "I'm no good at this at all."

We are all taking our journeys up the mountain. And with each step closer to the top we think, "how much longer is it??" Sometimes we feel all like Sisyphus, pushing that boulder up only to fall back down to the bottom. We stand, yet again, at the bottom of the mountain and look up wondering, "Can I do this?"

Sure. There is much to be said for people who really aren't good at certain things. There are times we need to reassess, accept defeat and disappointment, and take our lessons to move on. Those moments are humbling and beautiful.

But there are also the times when we are working so hard to keep fulfilling our lives that we forget about all the work that's already been behind us. And all the potential that remains ahead of us.

Are you in the midst of something great, but there is so much ahead of you that you feel overwhelmed by the remaining part of the journey?

Here was my fleeting advice to my dear, successful friend:
"Sometimes i feel like my "love story" is super lame and that I'm super lame. "There are days we all feel that way. Okay, let's be honest... there are MONTHS we all feel that way. But nah. You're doing so well. You're living your dream! You just kinda forget that you are because you don't hear all the theme music."

How easy to forget! As we are living our dreams today, let's turn up the inspiring theme music in our minds and remember where we are really standing.

A Whole Lotta Love. But How Much Life?

What's your priority these days? Are you living your life the way you want?

Sometimes I feel like I go to bed every night and all I can think about is how I'm not of any use or being as useful/efficient/helpful/hard-working as I need to be. Hmmm... actually, I'm pretty sure that's how I feel every night.

So I'm starting to think about all those beautiful sayings that tell you how to live the life you want:

"Be the change you want to see" - Ghandi

"We become what we want to be by consistently being what we want to become each day." - Hugh B. Brown

“There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.” - Albert Einstein

"One Day at a Time" - A.A.

"I yam what I yam" - Popeye

How do you live your life? Is it in line with how you want to live your life?
I once had a bishop who would tell us, "How you're living your life today will help you predict what your life will look like six months from now." I thought that was smart.

I guess this means I need to get moving so I can start going to bed at night without so many regrets...

Do You NaNo???

I love November. For a million reasons.

I love the Fall and everything about it. The crisp air. The beautiful trees. The feeling of change whipping through my heart. It's wonderful. Every November I feel as if I'm falling in love. The whole month.

This month I'm stepping things up a bit. This month I'll actually get outside and work out. This month I will finish this darned draft. And this month I will be more grateful. Would you like to join me?

November is National Novel Writing Month. The challenge is to write 50,000 before midnight, December 1st. If you feel like writing with the thousands of other people who have signed up, find me online and we can be cheerleaders for one another. (I'm a great cheerleader!!! Go! Go!!!)

Also, this November I would like to focus on gratitude. A few years ago, a group of my friends emailed each other once a week. We all listed what we were grateful for and it was inspiring. I'm spending this month in gratitude mode. Gratitude is one of the strongest tools we can use when we're looking to improve our relationships. Once a week, let's think of what we're most grateful for. I'm going to post a little something on my 31 Dates site. Every week, I'm looking for little posts of things you're grateful for. We'll call it... Thursday Thanks. Or something like that. (You know I love me some good alliteration.)

Life is good. And can be even better if we allow ourselves to see it that way.

I am a Writer?

I'm a little ambivalent about titles. On one hand, I feel as if they can pigeon-hole us: the cool kids, the dweebs, the nerds, the band geeks, the jocks. On the other hand I feel as if titles give us... well... a sense of entitlement. Or empowerment: esquire, president, CEO, secret agent, supermodel, superhero, etc.

Over the years I've traveled through a bunch of titles:
Actress
Singer
Daughter
Sister
President
New Kid
Lonely Girl
Popular Girl
Sorority Girl
Nerd
Producer
Unemployed
Girlfriend
Wife
Couch Potato
Runner
Marathoner
(and back to) Couch Potato :)

Yet there's been one title I keep struggling with over the years: "writer." Have we talked about this already? I feel like I talk about it all the time.

When I was a kid, I remember holding my first "published book" with pride. We were in third grade and had been assigned to write a book titled "All About Me." The book was about 6 pages long with one sentence per page. In the school's office, it was spiral bound with a laminated cardboard cover. Inside you would read about, well... me. I had a big brother and a cat named Maxinne. I wanted to be an actress, a hairdresser, or a lawyer. At the end, it was followed by an "About the Author" page, which listed the same information.
I thought it was a treasure -- and certainly I was sure it was the most brilliant piece of literature ever created.

I wrote for fun. Or for comfort. Poems and prose got me through my tough teenage years. Journaling helped me feel as if I had an outlet.
In college I majored in English because it made sense. It balanced out my theatre major, which was "fun." The double-major in English would make me appear "serious." Graduating in three years would make me appear "super serious."
I fell into my career naturally. Having both parents as journalists (mom, a print reporter and dad, a photojournalist) would mean the apple wouldn't fall far from the tree. My dreams of becoming a hairdresser/lawyer/actress had fallen behind and my dad easily tricked me into the news business.

For years, I spent my days writing and producing stories and newscasts. I received a master's degree on fellowship from the world's best journalism school. I became a network news writer. I joined the Writers' Guild. I even landed a book deal.
And yet, even with those pretty endorsements, it has still been a struggle for me to identify with this title without following it with a question mark: I am a Writer. Period.

Sometimes I believe this struggle to call myself a writer is simply because I don't feel as if I write well enough. Or often enough.
My self-criticism serves as my limitation.
My grammar is strong. But my vocabulary could be stronger.
I compare my rough drafts with published works.
My discipline is weak.
My ideal of what a "writer" is somehow seems greater than I could ever hope to be.

And then I think of Mile 8.

As I was training for a marathon a few years ago, I would spend every Saturday morning waddling several miles, adding a couple miles to each weekend, slowly (very slowly) building up my endurance to 26 miles. I had never been a runner.
During high school I was well aware of my lack of coordination. I much preferred the camaraderie and kilts than the actual athleticism of my team sports. I happily took my place on the field hockey team playing "left bench." Lacrosse was no different. I stood in the goal, watching the rest of my teammates skimper up and down the field, praying no one would toss the ball my way. If we were challenged to run a mile during practice, I would gasp and walk and grip my aching side.

Who was I to sign up for a marathon?

I had worked my way up to eight miles in training. Eight miles without dying! It was then, that somehow I knew, no matter how slow I would end up, I would some day finish a marathon. I wasn't fast. I would certainly not win a marathon. But I spent my mornings donning a race cap and running shoes. I was slow. But I was dedicated. And by merely getting out the door in the morning, I was a runner.

So today, as I continue to fear my editor's deadline, to compare myself to "real" authors, to feel the weight of the world peeking over my shoulder and criticising every word I write, I will take a few minutes to allow myself to waddle into the world as a writer. I might tip toe my way to the end of my book. It might not resonate with any readers. But for today, I am showing up to write. I am committing to my title without question mark.
Today, I AM A WRITER.

Biology 150 (and how it still influences my life)

This is an email I just sent to an old college professor. I felt like sharing it with you too. Thank you to you teachers who push us to excel!

Hi Dr. Jorgensen,
I hope this finds you well.
I'm not sure if you remember me, but I took your Bio 150 class when I was a freshman at Roanoke College. I remember listening to my roommate complain about your class during the Fall 1995 semester. She spoke of how you were a tough teacher and how "no one can ace his class." I took that idea as a challenge, thinking, "I can ace his class." As an English/Theater double-major, I had no specific interests in biology, but I had much interest in proving to myself that I could stand up to a difficult challenge.
I enrolled in your class the following Spring semester with high hopes of easily making an "A." My roommate was right. Your class was the toughest I'd ever come across. The material seemed dense, too difficult for me to comprehend, but I was determined to ace your class.
Even though I feared the ridicule that would I would face from other students, I bought a tape recorder, placed it on my desk, and started recording every one of your lectures while taking meticulous notes. At night, I would listen to the taped lectures and type them up, word for word. The repetition of your lectures helped me considerably.
When it came time to take your tests, I revisited the material and made a bunch of flash cards, hoping to trigger the details of all-too-confusing cellular structures. Over the next few months I found myself falling in love with biology. I started to find the mysteries of human structure and development fascinating, I looked forward to every class, and I relished in my studies.
I kept my schedule packed, blending my intense study time with my participation in choirs and plays and of course, having fun with my friends. And there were many times my studying called for sacrifices. I can recall a Friday night when I was reviewing the material for an upcoming test in your class. I sat in one of the study rooms in my dorm, Marion Hall. My friends would pass by and head out the door, stopping to ask me when I would be done studying so I could meet them at a party. I told them I still had a little more material to cover and would hopefully make it out later. I remember clearly one friend who said, "Why are you studying on a Friday night? You'll forget all the material by the time you take the test on Monday anyway." I shrugged my shoulders and got back to work, making sure not to mention that the test was not on Monday, but on Wednesday -- I was studying five days in advance.
While those months of listening to lectures and absorbing every little detail about the class taught me much about biology, I learned so much more about myself than I ever could have imagined. I learned that I loved learning. I loved working hard and proving to myself that I could do the unthinkable. I taught myself how to study. I figured out ways to teach myself new material. There are days that I think back to those flash cards, those Friday nights in the study room, those difficult tests, and I somehow feel as if I can do anything if I just prioritize and work hard.

I did ace your class.
At the end of the semester you asked me to consider Biology as a major. "Biology?" I thought, "but I already have two majors." The idea was tempting, though.
I don't regret majoring in English or in Theater. Every class I took at Roanoke College was well worth the hard work. I graduated from the school in three years. I worked as a television news producer and writer for twelve years, most recently at Good Morning America. I received a full-tuition fellowship from Columbia University's Graduate School of Journalism. Now I'm writing my first book.

Sometimes I wonder if professors know how much of an influence they have had on the lives of their students. I'm sure many teachers gauge their success by the number of students who manage to succeed in their career field. But there are those of us who see you as a success merely because you inspired us when you didn't realize it. You served as an example when you thought no one was listening during your introductory-level class.
Thank you for being the teacher who keeps pushing his students. I can only assume being a difficult professor has its drawbacks. No one loves the teacher who makes life hard. But for me, your pushing made all the difference in my life.

The PNW

I'm not sure if the people in the northwest think of us as crazy California drivers or unforgiving New York drivers, but apparently we don't fit in on the roads up here. The first day we were here I was flipped off in Oregon. I figured the woman was extra antsy because our rental has Washington plates.
And then Evan was given the bird in Washington. So they hate us there too.

Other than that, it's been a great trip so far.

On a side note...
Tonight is Stand Up to Cancer, a cross-network televised fundraiser for cancer research. I love this. Most of you know, cancer has played a big part in my family life for a long time. Over the years I've done a few fundraisers for different types of cancer. This particular fundraiser is for collaborative cancer research. Check out their website or watch tonight at 8pm (7central).

Back in the Saddle...

Hi friends! Just a quick update on love and life. I'm loving life and am adjusting to the California sunshine (even though I still miss the lovely NYC!).
The rest of my life has taken a little longer to adjust! As I keep being reminded, change comes quickly but the transition is sometimes slowwwwww!

In my ever-changing career, I'm learning what it's like to be my own boss. It's hard! No more complaining about The Man unless I'm willing to complain about myself!

I set up a new website that I'm pretty excited about. And I gave the dating blog a lil' makeover. Things are a-changin'!
Some of you have asked me about my book (thanks for asking!). I've started it over a few times. I guess working in news has trained me to easily kill my work if it doesn't feel relevant (or good). But then... I started liking what I wrote! And then my hard drive died. (so sad!) I was pretty bummed about losing a few chapters; I was heart-broken. It felt kinda like a really hard breakup. One of those really painful breakups that takes a before having the desire to get back in the game. It's still kinda a touchy subject. Ouch.

BUT! Now I'm back in full-swing. It helps that my book deal has finally gone through with all the appropriate signatures and my editor (whom I LOVE!) is rooting me along. So that's fun.
The book world is a really strange business. I feel like I've learned a lot along the way about what it takes to get a book published (let's be honest, I've been the luckiest woman in the world with that and will be forever grateful). Books take so much work to get onto those little shelves! I have an even higher respect now for writers than ever before!

I'm also learning how lonely writing a little book can be. I'm used to focusing on my work while surrounded by the chaos of a busy newsroom. I miss having people around. So sometimes I'll work with noise on in the background. Or I'll head to the outdoor market/mall nearby and will pretend all the passersby are my co-workers. They really are a delight to work with. No one complains about anything!

We're lucky to live fairly close to my mom. Somehow she seems offended if we don't bring our dirty laundry over to wash at her place. She loves us.
And we're about an hour away from one of Evan's brother's place... the other "T&E Johnson" home. It's good to be so close to family.

We have one car and Evan walks to work. The New Yorker in me is still into walking. I miss New York. Have I mentioned that?
For the first few months, I would cry any time I was reminded of New York. I would whimper at songs about the city. I would compare everything to the days gone by ("y'know, we don't even need a car in New York," or "they have the best cookies/crepes/bums in New York," or "I'm pretty sure I weighed 10 pounds less in the city."
I would even get choked up if I watched Law and Order, gazing at the yellow 'caution' tape draped outside bodegas or entrances to subway stations. But now my tears are replaced by the joy for the life I have here with my handsome husband.
Of course, I feel like we had more friends back in New York...

See? I'm making a little bit of progress.

My New Life

I guess I should mention...

I quit my job and moved to L.A.

check out more wedding pics from MegRuth photography here

And now we're married!

Yes, life is blissful.

I'm pretty excited about everything ahead. Moving, marriage, and my new "job" is an adjustment for sure. I'm grateful for all of it. I feel really blessed.

I really am enjoying being married. I truly believe marriage is the modern-day miracle. It has taken me a lot of personal growth and gratitude to get me to the point where I would marry my dream man. I am still in shock about the whole thing. Maybe it'll really hit me soon. Evan is the greatest blessing I have been given so far in my life. He really is amazing and seems to be a never-ending fountain of love and support.

I had a very eventful last year (or so) and I am feeling like this year will be quite busy as well. I just signed with an agent, so we'll see what happens with the book. I guess I need to finish writing it...

I might also start a new lil' blog for Evan and I to keep you updated. We're debating relevance and format.

For now, I'm happy to report that we're getting settled into this new, fantastic chapter of our lives. It's a happy adjustment. I am going to write, to be a wife, to continue being happy, and I'm going to allow more miracles to unveil themselves in my life.

This is the best so far...