Four and three and two and one (What up!)

When Mike D, MCA and Ad-Rock first organized as the Beastie Boys, they were among the hardest of the hardcore in 1979. Rather than abandon their sound for their love of rap music, they made music history by changing the scene instead of themselves.  As it turned out, they could do both. At the same time.

If only it were that easy for the rest of us…

The saving grace is that we’re not alone in this.  A month ago…

• I hadn’t read The War of Art by Steven Pressfield.
• I hadn’t heard any of the Question The Rules modules from Johnny B. Truant & Lee Stranahan.
• I hadn’t received optimystical clarity from Mynde Mayfield.
• I hadn’t asked a few particular people for guidance, or heard the rather confounding feedback I eventually received.
• I hadn’t gone to the NC CEO Forum or heard the amazing speakers discuss how they achieved a triple bottom line in their businesses.
• I hadn’t seen that (I can not believe I’m about to say this) Glee episode with Neil Patrick Harris about dreams.
• I hadn’t gotten my new tattoo, a cover-up for another tattoo that represented a period in my life I finally became ready to leave behind.

And really, it was the last one that came with a bullet because it was an intentional change made to represent this moment…this time in my life where I’m standing at the crossroads, looking forward at what my life could be, knowing the only thing these paths share is a change from what my life currently includes. I now have a permanent reminder of who I am today and I couldn’t be happier.

The tattoo sealed the deal, but it was a combination of all these things together that created a rather perfect existential storm.

Kickin’ the clarity…

I’ve seen how other people before me have worked through trying times when it feels like nothing is certain and everything is up for grabs. And I’ve seen how they rocked it into six-figure businesses that fulfill them.

I understand Resistance and refuse to accept it as my driver.

Most importantly, I’ve questioned everything I thought was solid (spoiler alert: there really is no spoon) and have come to realize I don’t have to change who I am in order to change what I do.

True, there are tons of people writing about sustainability. Are any of them business-focused pervs who are incapable of providing a value proposition without giggling at the word proposition?

There are a lot of people who discuss grieving and the importance of reconciling your past in order to be fully present for the now.  Are any of them twisted enough to tell you it’s okay to feel anger while cracking on the reaper with jokes that would make your mama blush?

Even if the answer is yes, I’ve realized I actually do have things to offer that won’t compromise my current line of work or my integrity.  I don’t need to take on an assumed name (yet) and I don’t need to write to you in a fashion that reads like comment bait.  While I certainly hope you comment, that’s not my goal here.

Short time frame, big difference…

If I learned anything from the last 30 days, it’s that I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be right now. More, I’m exactly who I’m supposed to be.

I’ve been so focused on change that I forgot it’s okay to be the constant. I don’t have to be the one who changes all the time. And neither do you.

As I bless this site with a new header (created by the ever-awesome Marty Whitmore) that more accurately captures what I’m trying to do here, I also bless myself with a little kindness for all the crappy things I’ve been doing to my mind.  It is true that I’m a total freak, but people have built revolutions on this kind of thing… so why not me?

If this resonates with you at all, I’d love to hear your experience and insight.  It’s been so liberating to find I’m not as alone as I thought I was…

I hope you know the same is true for you…

Art by Scott Beale / Laughing Squid

Since starting this blog last year, I’ve written about my job twice. There’s a reason for that, and it’s probably not what you think.

I’m not holding back here because I feel like I should save my material for paid work. Well, that’s not the biggest reason…

Earth Day was last week and I didn’t do a damn thing on here for it.  I owe you an explanation.  The chief reason I haven’t posted on energy topics is because my profession consumes me everywhere but here.

I had hoped this blogging experiment could remind me of who I am beyond this belle who manages big budget energy projects.  I don’t want to be one-dimensional, so I write about everything but my job.  Probably not the most predictable direction for my Renewabelle handle, but I had no idea things would turn out this way when I started my company three years ago…

This is the real face of green.

I work from home.  Many people think that means I lead a relaxing and flexible life of sustainable luxury.  Many people would be wrong.

The truth is that I work more than most people I know.  Even on the playground with my kid, I’m thinking about work.  I don’t concern myself with a work-life balance because everything requires such fluidity that I hardly have a moment to plan rigid time blocking.

Over the last six years, I’ve watched the Illinois market for energy efficient technologies and sustainable building practices transform before my eyes.  The program we run is better than a typical rebate program because we help business owners and public entities make educated investment decisions.  In a rebate scenario, they do one thing.  In a design assistance program, our experience has shown clients implement a lot more than one simple measure.

When our program began, we were begging businesses to let us audit their facilities for free.  The general opinion was that energy-related investments were reserved for treehuggers or spendthrifts.  Today, we can hardly keep up with the incoming flow of applications for assistance.

Things are very different now than they were a few years ago.  For example, people now understand that increases in energy efficiency have many benefits, both economic and intrinsic.  Sweetening the deal, incentives and grants are available to offset the increased costs associated with efficient technologies.

The only problem is that the bottom fell out from under the country right around the same time legislation was passed to require significant results from related programs.  Everyone wants to do it, but either they don’t have the money, the time or they’re too scared to spend anything right now.

It’s an uphill battle, but the team I work with is amazing and we work our backsides off to keep our program successful.  With this work comes a lot of stress, which affects pretty much everything I do since, like I said before, my work consumes me.

This is the real face of Jess.

Sometimes all I can muster is a tweet.  After reviewing a report or having a long, detailed call that requires 110% of my attention, I don’t have much left in me for commentary.

I have to fight the urge to isolate. After leaving Florida, I was socially sequestered on and off for nearly four years.  I don’t want to go back.  Tweets are progress.  Or maybe regress… Either way, I digress…

I’m well aware that hundreds of bloggers write about swapping a light bulb or inspecting a building envelope (walls, windows, roof, etc) and I don’t feel I need to add to that.  I want to bring something different to the table, but everything I want to tell you either involves something I’m contractually not allowed to discuss or something I’ve made myself believe is banal.

People ask me from time to time what I sell, and the only simple answer I can provide is “sound solutions.”  I’ve thought a lot about it and think that’s why I keep writing all these bizarre life lessons.  I want to help you (whoever “you” are), so I’m throwing everything at you in my arsenal while reserving my area of professional expertise for my day job.  The problem is that you’re probably here for something I’m not giving you.

A normal businesswoman would look at this and say, “Jessica, I believe you may be onto something.” Unfortunately, this particular businesswoman has become a commitment-phobe and likes to come up with awesome ideas that she convinces herself aren’t worth the sacrifice of time necessary for success.

That said, I’m not going to promise you I’m going to write a report or book or some other saleable item that I hope will justify my efforts on here anymore. The next time you hear me talk about that type of thing, it’ll be because it’s done and I’m ready to take your money.

I built this blog because I thought it was the next right step in my journey.  I don’t know what I’m going to be doing next year, but I do know that today I have this thing that I’m supposed to write for and find myself failing.  I will do my best to change that.

All I have to do now is figure out how to use my own voice again and all will be well.  Right?

When you’re looking down the barrel of a mic (or a pen) and a reporter is on the other end, you’d better be ready.  I’m not going to mince my words at all when I tell you it is exceptionally easy to blow an interview.

Since starting my work in the energy efficiency industry, I’ve been interviewed for pieces in industry newsletters, the Wall Street Journal and everything in between.  My ability to provide succinct sound bites and quick quotes is not a natural talent, but  one I honed through a number of embarrassing, easily preventable events that you never need to endure.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately and, while I have many maxims regarding the subject, the story behind my First Maxim of Media Relations is really too good to keep to myself…

My “John Mayer” Incident

In 2002, I was interviewed by the ever-lovely Xtine for her magazine, In Theory. Neither of us had actually done an interview before, and what happened was nothing less than punk f***ing rock. (click here to download the PDF)

At the time, I was working in the editorial department at Orlando Weekly as the calendar girl, spending the remainder of my extracurricular hours as a DJ and live show producer for my college radio station.  Never a wallflower, I was not one to maintain a “professional” demeanor either at work or play…which is probably why I was immediately forced to learn my First Maxim of Media Relations:

No matter how much fun you’re having, don’t forget you’re giving an interview.

This WILL go down on your permanent record.  You don’t have to be stuffy, but I strongly suggest you stay away from responses like “don’t take it in the ass” unless you are absolutely certain you won’t mind that showing up in print.  Also…

Do not make jokes about fellatio when discussing how you landed your current job. Even if your bosses are a gay man and a woman.

The day after it came out, the head editors called me into their office to discuss the article and I was unofficially reprimanded.  Thank goodness I worked at a newsweekly with a sense of humor and wasn’t fired for this.  I could have been, but really, it never occurred to me that she would print that.

I forgot I was being interviewed and said something that could not translate without inflection or facial expressions. Bad, bad move…

Having since been an interviewer as well as the interviewee, I must warn you that many writers are (*gasp!*) personable individuals.  They engage for a living, so it should come as no surprise when it happens while they’re asking questions.  No matter what, you must always remember your conversation is part of the interview and respond accordingly.

(note: I do realize that I’m letting you all read something you’d never, ever have known existed, but figured mere reference simply wouldn’t transfer my message quite as clearly.)

Xtine and I were later crowned Princesses of Punk at the Orlando Punk Awards, so it wasn’t even close to a loss.  In fact, as my first interview ever, I’d say it was one of the coolest things I did during that era.  I can assure you I haven’t done anything like it since…

Except for the part about Tony Danza.  I still sing the wrong words to that song because it’s funny. And because I really do want him to hold me closer… Really… who doesn’t?!

Yesterday was a day that shall live in infamy.

To call what happened a failure of epic proportions would be an understatement.  Fortunately for you, sweet reader, I swiftly cataloged the sequence of events that led up to my Passover paroxysm in case you were interested in creating your own minor meltdown.

Question nothing as you follow these steps and you too will soon enjoy a spectacular failure, the kind where an hour feels like an entire evening and you know it will be one you’ll never forget…

Step 1. Do not plan ahead: Look for essential resources (such as a Seder plate) the day before you need it. There is no need to interrupt your moments prior when you’re “pretty sure it’s somewhere.” Chances are likely it will magically appear alongside the magical coffee that brews itself and the dishes that clean themselves overnight.

Step 2. Source via big box: Do not attempt to locate unusual replacement items from a website that specializes in such matters, especially when you live within a few miles from a Party City. Do visit said big box, ask for assistance, and experience the awkwardness that can only come from requesting a Seder plate and getting handed paper plates with pastel crucifixes on them as an appropriate equivalent.

Step 3. Mince your words (especially in the meat section): Upon entering your chosen supermarket, locate the nearest meat expert (someone wearing a white jacket) and inquire about particular cuts specified in your recipe.  Do not question his wisdom.  Ideally, a child with a penchant for poking his finger into the plastic wrap covering ground beef and steaks should accompany you.  Ignore italicized words on plastic packaging, as they are often unnecessary descriptors that do not apply to your chosen outcome.

Step 4. Relax: Even if you’ve never prepared a brisket in your life, this isn’t something you really need to worry about.  You printed out the recipe and got what it said to get… deal with the prep when the time comes.  If you find your recipe requires more time than you left for yourself, frantically search the internet for ways to cook meat faster than advised.

Step 5. Forget to laugh: Quite frankly, there is absolutely nothing funny about mistaking corned beef brisket for beef brisket, forgetting to start the cooking process on time, messing up cuts so that the non-brisket ends up in rubbery rectangles, or eating the crushed-tomato covered carrots that were supposed to soften somehow in the non-brisket juice.  May your eyes burn holes through anyone who dares to make a mustard and rye joke in lieu of spearheading activities that could involve unleavened bread.

Given some practice and possibly a beer, I’m certain you too could enjoy your 15 minutes at the butt of your spouse’s every joke while creating a memory that will last a lifetime.  If you have any tips you’d like to contribute, I sure would love to hear them…

Once upon a time, I had a dream to build a particular type of business and it totally blew up in my face.  I have a mentor to thank for that.  And yes, I really mean it.  I thank him all the time…

While countless individuals have inspired me, guided me and/or screwed me over (still learning experiences), my list of professional mentors is quite short.  In fact, only two come to mind.

The first is someone who has asked that he not be named on my blog. Ever. I suppose working with me for seven years has taught him enough to know a safe distance is probably best when I’m given free reign to write whatever I want. I will say, though, that this man has yet to let me down, and that he has been more generous and patient than should ever be expected from anyone who isn’t my husband. If it weren’t for him, I have no idea where I would be today.

The second person is someone I’ve only been working with for five months.  Unlike the first mentor, I pay this one.  I don’t remember how I first found Johnny B. Truant, but I remember thinking that a Mitch Hedberg fan who uses that much profanity on his professional site couldn’t be all that bad.  I quietly subscribed and read his banter for a few months before I ever communicated with him.

It was around the time that Brian Clark’s Teaching Sells program was about to reopen and I was fishing through the free content when I finally dropped JT a note.  I had gotten over the mental hurdle of PAYING for someone to help me with my regular freak-out sessions (I’d never paid for anything like that before) and decided to ask Johnny how he chose his coach.

His response was something along the lines of, “I tried Tim and liked him, but it was a trial and error sort of thing.” Then he wrote (and this is a direct quote), “Come to think of it, I really need to retool my coaching page. It looks like I only do tech help, but that’s not what people are asking me about. Hmm…”

Any normal person would have been put off by his total lack of professionalism, his inability to properly market himself as a coach (I honestly wasn’t even thinking about using him to begin with), his self-deprecating comments regarding his limitations… Of course, I’m not normal.

After acquiring his Zero To Business course and talking a lot more via email, I asked him to find an hour I could buy so he could help me figure out what in the hell I was trying to do.

The first few minutes of that October call were awkward, but it quickly became clear to me that Johnny was exactly what I needed.  I had no idea my business plans needed a therapist, but in that hour he was able to help me inventory what I was trying to accomplish and find some ways to get closer to achieving it.

Fast forward a few more sessions and we’ll find I actually didn’t want what I was trying to achieve.  Does that mean I wasted my money on guidance that didn’t apply to me anymore?  My answer is a resounding HELL NAW.  He saved me.

Working with Johnny actually got me in better touch with who I am and what I want.  I was about to travel down a typical entrepreneur’s path – I found a need and was going to fill it – only that path wasn’t right for me.  It took me six sessions and a lot of crap to truly understand what he’d been telling me all along… I was doing it wrong.

The truth is that none of us came with a manual.  We don’t know what’s going to happen next week, let alone six months from now.  Johnny built an awesome business in under a year that works for him.  I’m still picking up the pieces of my shattered plans, but that doesn’t mean he’s a poor mentor.  I’d argue it’s just the opposite.

Johnny recently wrote about scars and his adoration for Fight Club, but in typical Truant fashion, he was actually writing about something else.  It was one of the best posts I’ve ever read, and not only because it proves my point.

Anything worth having is worth fighting for, and every business I’ve ever admired has had failures in its history.  We fall, we get up, we get our asses back into the game better and wiser players for it.

Yes, I had a plan that fell apart and now I’m just doing whatever I think is the next right thing with minimal concern for developing a new plan.  I’m more confident, self-aware and content than I’ve been in years.  Best of all, I have a faith in business that works for me, which is something I’ve been missing for a while.

I recognize that choosing a mentor is a strange process, but hiring Johnny was really one of the best things I did in 2009.  I needed help, I asked for it and I got it.  Hopefully I’ve done cool things for him, too.  All I know for certain is that I would have never found the confidence to launch this blog if it weren’t for him, so if this post has gone too long, you can thank him for it.  I know I will.

————–

This post has been inspired by Holly Hoffman (@HollyHoffman on Twitter) of Neovia Solutions.  Holly put out a call to all bloggers about their mentor experiences and we invite you to share your own.  Thank you for reading.

Whenever people find out I worked at a comedy club, they immediately request a joke or otherwise expect me to be funny.  All I can say is that looks aren’t everything.

For the second entry in my now-dubbed Existential Resume expedition, I’m going to bring you to the job I landed immediately following the ever-scary Terror on Church Street: SAK Comedy Lab.

*I’d like to note for any would-be critics that the movie “Monsters, Inc.” wasn’t out when I decided to trade in screams for laughter.  Any further similarities are purely coincidental, and if they’re not, I’m owed some serious dough.

SAK was on the other end of Terror’s block, just off Orange Avenue in downtown Orlando.  They often enjoyed one another’s walk-up traffic, and as I said before, Terror made more money than SAK did.  But unlike Terror, money wasn’t why the performers or house staff were there.

My pay was miserable, but the positives far outweighed the negatives… I made my rent money another block over as a cocktail waitress at the Kit Kat Club, so I could afford to hang out with professional funny people on the side.

Which brings me to my first admission: I’m not a funny improvisational comedienne.  I followed my dream of becoming a world-famous actress and thought that meant I needed to work at a theater, mastering every dramatic challenge that came at me.  As it turned out, I wasn’t good.  At all.  I was an excellent straight gal in a scene, but terrible (I mean really terrible) at on-the-spot hilarity.

I could help grow stories with “yes, and” right with the best of ‘em.  I don’t block others or shut down the forward movement fellow players make in story lines.  I’m actually quite good under pressure, but my full in-character commitment to off-the-cuff concoctions just wasn’t up to par.  This should have upset me.  Thing is, I followed the third most important rule of improv and focused on the present, only to realize that what I really wanted was to be the house tech where I had all the buttons, levers and dials a girl could ask for.

I could have realized that I wasn’t cut out to be a funny girl and stopped devoting my time to an outlet with minimal compensation.  Instead I found something I liked a whole lot more that proved useful down the road when I landed jobs as a DJ and a stage tech at a couple other theaters.

Owning my shortfall ultimately saved me from a path that wasn’t mine, and being at peace with the fact that I won’t be the best at everything gave me the courage to try something completely different.

If I hadn’t adjusted the dreams I kept when I was 18 and ready to take on Hollywood, I’d be a very different and likely miserable person today.  Instead I’m saving the world (one energy efficiency measure at a time) and living the life with my wonderful family.

While theater teching at SAK wasn’t THE pivotal moment for my current reality, revisiting this chapter has reminded me that my aim doesn’t need to be perfect to still be on target.  Perfection is merely a measuring stick. Many times, close is close enough – then it’s up to me to put in the work to get to where I need to be…

You don’t have to work in a theater to know that we don’t need to be under a spotlight to shine.  That said, if we’re in the spotlight and we’re not there because it feels like that’s where we belong, it’s not going to be a stellar experience for any of us.  Shine when it feels right and your light will be impossible to miss…

(Quick plug: If you’re interested in getting a free copy of my theater tech materials and manuals, sign up for my mailing list.  I’ve scanned everything and will give them to those on my list through a super secret subscriber area, where you can access all the free randomness I share.  If nothing else, my tech doodles are worth the two minutes it’ll take to sign up…)

Yes.  It’s true.  I was paid to perform as Leatherface at a year-round Orlando attraction called Terror on Church Street.

I should note that I only performed this once, but I was the first female to take the roll and, after that night, I was the last for a long time…

As you may know, I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to do for extra money.  Naturally, this has led me to think about the insane things I’ve done for money in the past.  My job at Terror was by far the most unusual.  I mean, how many people can say they once paid the bills with a job as an acrobatic exorcist or a ghostly bride? Maybe 30.

To give you a better idea about the kind of place we’re talking about (click for video), you need to understand that this wasn’t your average haunted house.  This was a 22,000 square foot historic building with 25 rooms, each themed with a movie-set quality and high-budget effects. The Eternal Dwellers Theatre Company was a professional acting troupe with make-up calls and show times.  Depending on the role, you could be in make-up for as many as three hours.  Every October, we’d scare more than 1,000 people in a weekend.

Terror was the real deal. When you walked through the vampire-infested swamp, you had no idea you were in the middle of an indoor attraction… you were there. And someone was about to suck your blood.

I could wax on about all the things I loved about each of the roles, but I’m not telling you this story to encourage you try your hand at the fine art of horror performance.  Instead I’ll tell you what life lessons I got so you don’t have to go to all the trouble…

Lesson One: Fear is all in your head.

No matter how much you try to scare the guy who is determined to mock your attempts, you’re not going to do it.  You might startle him, but you’re not going to scare him.  Why?  Because he’s already made up his mind he’s not going to be afraid of you.  When you refuse to be afraid, you’re brave, whether it’s a conscious effort or not. This isn’t just a truth reserved for spook houses.  This is everywhere… Think about it…

Lesson Two: Your head doesn’t work right when fear is in charge.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen doting boyfriends run fifteen feet from their scared girlfriends because I popped out of a dark corner wearing fangs.  People who knew it was all lights and make-up have punched me in the face.  The most delightful people do crazy things when they’re afraid.  The reason is simple: people don’t think straight when they’re scared. Not only does it cause physiological changes…it inhibits your ability to make good decisions. No bueno.

Lesson Three: Even scary places have dark corners where you can sneak a smoke or a quick make-out session with Hellraiser.

This has little to do with what I’ve been talking about, but it’s the truth so I thought I should include it.  Seems only fair.

Lesson Four: As fun as it may sometimes be to scare people, you’re the one who ends up scared.

There was this room at Terror that was referred to as “the doll room.”  You dressed up as a clown and waited for people to come through your hall before you made the room come to life.  On slower nights, I hung out with the Exorcist and whoever was working the morgue until the people came. Once you had the rhythm of any given room down, you knew exactly how long the delay would be and just how close the leader should be to your hiding place before you jumped out.

In my opinion, this was the scariest room to work.

On the few occasions I was cast as the clown, I enjoyed the role until it was “showtime.” As soon as we heard Freddy Krueger call out, we knew it was time.  I dutifully waited in a hallway that backed to the hydraulics on the Exorcist bed.  Between the creepy music and the lulling hiss of the pipes, I would often be more scared than the people walking into my room.  I’ve entirely missed groups because I freaked myself out so badly awaiting their arrival (see Lesson One).

In my employment history, I’ve been in a number of positions that could have benefited from fear-based messages, ie. “You’re going to pay too much,” “You’re missing your one big chance,” “Our competitors will make you fat,” “You’re killing baby polar bears,” and so on.  Every time I consider such tactics, that same feeling curls up at the back of my neck and I just can’t do it.

Fear is magnetic and will attract more fear, much like strength attracts strength. If what you’re putting out to your “guests” is a message of fear, fear is what will return to you (see Lesson Two).

Lesson Five: People love to be scared.

When we’re scared, adrenaline is released in huge amounts and directs the oxygenated blood supply to all our muscles to allow us to run away. Our mouths dry, our hands get hot, and our hearts beat out of our chest until we realize it’s all in our heads. And damn, that rush felt fun…

My next job (post coming soon) was at a comedy club where we didn’t have half the paying customers that the spook house had. The people who came into Terror were on edge because they knew what we were going to do.  Comedy customers would come to relax and laugh, but customers who pay for professionals to scare the crap out of themselves are entirely different.  Yet Terror made more money…

Since we’re really nothing more than a collection of experiences recalled as knowledge earned, I’m glad I worked there.  Again, scare-acting is not for everyone…but most jobs aren’t. The one thing I’m walking away with from this employment expedition is that fear is the answer to everything and nothing.  On one hand people love it, yet it renders them unavailable on the other.

Fear creates a one-sided relationship where one delivers and the other eventually runs. Sure, there’s money to be made, but do you want it that badly?

I did once, but I don’t think I could do it again… The exception to this is October 31^st, on which date I’m not satisfied unless at least one person seriously thinks they could pee themselves.  I should allow myself at least one night to unleash my talent, right?

More soon… thanks for reading 

I write this post with a heavy heart.  There is so much sadness in the world right now with tragedies multiplying by the day.  Of course, my topic has nothing to do with those catastrophes.  Mine has to do with sex.

For months now, I’ve been working on a covert project that consumed countless hours of my “spare” time.  Although I’m quite successful in my current career, I had hoped to augment my income through a new product that would help people enrich their sex lives.

After an exhaustive amount of research and market testing, I knew this was poised to be a huge success.  However, instead of approaching this with excitement, I found myself merely going through the motions of building this product, continually plagued with internal resistance.

Like many entrepreneurs would, I passed it off as fear. I continued pressing on, only to find myself dreading new discoveries and mentally shutting down when the content got too deep for my tastes.  It took weeks before I allowed myself an opportunity to take a real inventory as to what was going on.

After finally running through all the reasons I wanted to do this versus the reasons I didn’t, I realized I was building toward a dead-end.  But why? How?

I ignored something so simple, so necessary, so critical to the success of any entrepreneur’s journey…

I forgot to ask myself if I would do it for free.

What I realized is that I was so focused on building what I thought would be a successful source of income that I neglected to ask whether this was a niche I would want to produce, promote or protect. Instead of building a freedom business, I was designing an emotional death sentence.  And no, I’m not insane. In fact, I bet this could happen to anyone…

This business I was building was solely for profit.  I actually convinced myself that I was passionate about something I had no real connection to because I was blinded by my goals of getting out of debt. My drive to succeed in this venture had little to do with the mission and everything to do with the dollar.  For many, the dollar is enough.  For me, I need a reason or I will be miserable.

My niche and I officially called it quits this week and my heart is broken.  It feels like I just ended a relationship that wasn’t bad, but it just wasn’t right.  You know… the kind where kisses are just lips touching and when you look at the other person, all you feel is a sense of longing to feel something other than what you do.  Only now that it’s over, I’m left to figure out how to move on…

Having survived a fair amount of disagreeable events in my life, you might think it’d be easy to pick myself up again after failing a business venture I never even launched.  It sounds so stupid to even say.  But it was real to me, and knowing all the time and effort I put into dotting every “i” and crossing every “t” makes it hurt that much more.  I want to tell myself I made a huge mistake, but the smarter me (yes, on occasion there is more than one “me” in my head) knows that’s not the truth.

I believe this couldn’t have been a mistake.  My coach has been enlightening me with his views on faith in business and according to the Gospel of Truant, things happen for a reason.

So now, as it seems, I need to put away the cosmic chocolate ice cream, turn off the damn Meg Ryan movie and learn the lesson I obviously needed to learn…

Then, with a little bravery or something like it, you may soon see what I’ve found I would do for free… And hopefully you’ll buy some for everyone you know…

I work. I work a lot. Like, more than most people.  That’s why you shouldn’t worry if I haven’t posted on here, especially if it’s a holiday.  In addition to being a mommy, a wife, a program manager, a marketing ghostwriter, and an entrepreneur who is trying to get a new business off the ground, I like to have some downtime.  It should be noted, though, that even in my downtime, I’m thinking about work.  That’s how this lovely song came to be…

This was the content included in my energy program’s holiday email. Of course, it was written by no other than yours truly.

I’m guessing you’ll be able to sing along if you’d like…

I really can’t stay – Baby it’s cold inside
I’ve got to go away – Baby it’s cold inside
This workday has been – Been hoping that you’d drop in
Like eating ice – We’ll get you warmed up with free advice
My engineer is starting to worry – We’ll get you fixed up in a hurry
My operations guy is pacing the floor – Listen to the old boiler roar
So really I’d better scurry – Client dear, please don’t hurry
Well maybe I’ll close all outside doors – Add weather-stripping for a bit more…

The employees might think – Baby, it’s bad in there
We’re now a skating rink – There’s savings to be had in there
I wish I knew how – We’ll make recommendations
To fix our bills – We’ll take those bills and have a look
I ought to say “set that setback,” – Mind if we visit you Tuesday?
At least I’m gonna visit your site – That would be SEDAC.org
I really can’t wait – Neither can we
Ahh, ‘cause it’s cold inside!

Baby, it’s cold inside!

I hope your holidays are bright and your new year is amazing!  Thanks for being a reader…

Being new to this whole blogging thing, I’ve thought a lot about what I should share and what I should keep to myself. Since my coach, Johnny B. Truant, is of no help regarding what content I release and which topics I hold back, I’m just going to throw my biggest truths at you and see what happens.

Truth #1: The holidays have been a struggle for me for the last nine years.  My mother killed herself in January of 2000 and I’ll never forget looking around the house after the police were done questioning us, taking mental pictures of the holiday insanity she brought forth every year.  We’re talking a few trees (in a Jewish home, mind you), each decorated in theme, an entire winter village set up on tables, about 15 nutcrackers, and a host of other Yuletide odds and ends.  At one time, she had TWO storage units for all her holiday decor. Today, that’s been pared down to four boxes I keep in my attic storage.

Now don’t go getting all, “I’m so sorry for your loss” on me. I’ve spent almost 10 years hearing that. Never has anyone said that they were happy for my loss, so let’s just assume that I know whomever reads this will be sorry for my loss. I am, too. And we move forward…

When your parent (assuming you don’t hate them — I loved my mom very much) dies, you really don’t know how to live without them.  I was fortunate to have had 21 years with motherly support and know that there are a number of people out there (my brothers included) who didn’t even get to have it for quite as long as I did. However, it’s hard to ignore the countless others who get to continue on living with their parents, many times taking them for granted or just not taking them for anything at all.

Holiday season or not, that really pisses me off.

Please don’t misunderstand… I know that we all have our story and we all have our personal histories that dictate how our current relationships operate. That said, it seems for me that, when faced with my own tragic loss, it’s always a struggle not to take on a victim’s point of view, wondering why poor Jess has to live with such horrible circumstances while everyone else gets to ignore such wonderful gifts.

That train of thought pisses me off more than the first issue stated.

There are no victims in life. There are those who pick themselves up and those who stay down. And there are also those who stay down until someone else comes along and picks them up. All too often, when pushed down again, people often become the latter or stay the same. It has always made more sense to me to be the one who picks herself up and moves on.

When discussing my mom, though, all that is easier said than done. It’s hard to pick myself up day after day. I do it. And I’d like to think it’s made me a better person, but then I over-analyze the situation and worry that I’m not sufficiently mourning my mom, feeling good about the person I’ve become since her death. Almost as though a sick little part of me WANTS to roll over and writhe in misery, sadistically insisting that finding a good side to her suicide would only admit she was right to do so.

Not true. But this brings me to the main reason I needed to pour this blog out…

I’ve finally realized after nine years (yes, I know… I’m sometimes a little behind the ball) that tragedy breeds opportunity. Everyone knows that the first law of thermodynamics (perhaps not by name) states that energy does not die, but rather only changes form. Extrapolation of this law tells us that, if emotions are also less calculable forms of energy, there is no sadness diminished that can not potentially produce happiness. Or perhaps it tells us that sadness never dies, but neither does happiness. In either case, there are a number of examples I’ve found, in both science and personal experience, that tell me it’s okay to find reasons to find relief in horrible, miserable memories. Life isn’t black and white… and neither are our hearts.

It’s funny that my mom was around for 45 years, but the one memory that comes back like an axe isn’t a warm and fuzzy one. It makes me wonder if we sometimes are prone to dwell on sadder times because it makes us feel justified in missing them without the guilt of time well spent since their departure. I think, regardless of the case, that we never do know how to live in a world without our missing parent. However, it only makes sense that we allow ourselves to do so without emotional baggage dictating our continued denial that we are, in fact, living while they, in fact, are not.

And this brings us back to the absence of victims in this world. Since I choose to be one of those people who picks herself back up, I believe it only makes sense that I do move on once standing. I will never be able to see my mom pick up my son and watch her face light up as he smiles. She will never meet my husband and tell me how fantastic he is. However, I can light up, knowing she would, too, and be okay with missing her but knowing that, without her death, my son may not have ever been. My husband and I may have never been.

Everything I am today is indirectly a result of that loss. And in being grateful for all I have, I am indirectly grateful for the history that has inevitably dictated where I am today. This doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t do just about anything to be able to hang out with my mom in person just a little more (nine years is a long time), but it does mean that there’s more going on in times of tragedy than just terrible, unhappy things…

Tragedy breeds opportunity. And it really is just as simple as that.

So… for the 2009 holiday season, I’m not going to fight my urge to deck the halls because they remind my Mom is dead.  Instead, I’m making sure our home is filled with the spirit of the season, inviting all the love and peace in the world to join us as we close out another successful year. I’m going to make sure I tell everyone I care about just how important they are to me, and I’m not going to dwell on the past when the present slips away every second of the day.  I’m going to live the life I’m supposed to lead and not take even a minute for granted.

In every moment, we have the opportunity to be happy or sad.  The result depends on which emotion we cultivate.  I choose happy.

“Sing we joyous, all together,  Fa la la, fa la la, la la la.
Heedless of the wind and weather, Fa la la la la, la la la la.”