Choosing Hope Over Despair

This week I am hosting a guest blog from a young man named Matt. I love his positive message and hope you enjoy it as well. Also, if you know someone who is suffering and may be helped with this message, please share it.

Three and a half years ago, I was sitting in Washington County Jail with three felony charges. I was addicted to drugs and alcohol, without a home, and did not have very much to offer the world. Feeling hopeless, afraid, and confused, I had completely given up on happiness.

Today, I am absolutely content with my life, where I have been, and where I may go. I have been sober for three and a half years, own The Easier Softer Way, work full-time at a job I absolutely love, have a wonderful relationship with my girlfriend, family, and friends, and I am fully self-sufficient financially. Although I am only 22 years old, I have achieved more in my life already than I ever thought I would be able to.

I share these things neither to brag nor to make these things seem overly important. I share my experience with the wish that somebody who is hopeless may hear it, and know that we are never truly without hope. Although my life looks great on the outside, these external gifts are only a tiny piece of the happiness I experience. The true gifts come with peace of mind, contentment, and the ability to be present.

When I was using drugs and alcohol on a daily basis, I was constantly running from reality. I had innumerable problems that I perceived, all of which rested outside of myself. I was rarely present for my life, and my unhappiness ruled me.

I found when I got sober that I had to look within myself if I were to find contentment in my life. The key was that I had happiness within me all along. When people use the term “recovering,” it means to me that we are able to recover our true nature, our hearts. As my true nature was lost in my addiction, I had to recover who I was. Through a fair amount of work, I was able to find the person that had been within me all along.

One of the greatest tools I have toward ridding myself of negativity within myself is mindfulness. Mindfulness teaches me to be present, and recognize what I am feeling. In a way, it is the opposite of averting from our feelings and thoughts by drug use. In mindfulness I am able to meet my thoughts and feelings head on. When I know what is going on within me, I am more easily able to deal with the problem. A teacher of mine reminds me that if a car breaks down, you can’t just simply fix it. You have to open the hood and find out what is going on!

I know today that when I am lonely, I can reach out to my loved ones and do something fun. I know when I feel bad about something I did, I can apologize and work on that behavior. Knowing what is causing the discomfort, I must take action! Sitting around thinking about my problems is a sure path into negativity for me. When I take action, I am able to change my headspace and open up to a whole new positive world.

Together, mindfulness of what is going on within and immediate action have helped me grow each and every day. The path from hopeless to smiling and free is not always easy, but it is often simple. I must look at the unhappiness in my life and take personal responsibility. I am very careful to not beat myself up. I look at what I have control over (myself), and I focus my energy there. In this way, I can take action to change who I am, rather than letting my happiness always rest in the hands of others.

I am indescribably grateful for the life I have and the person I am today. If you had told me how my life would unfold when I was sitting in that jail cell, I would have chuckled at your insanity. I know today that I have no idea what the future holds, and if I stay sober and deal with the issues as they arise, I am able to live happy, joyous, and free.

A Bird in the Hand

We strolled along Bush Street in San Francisco and felt the cool breeze against our cheeks. It was refreshing to gaze at the colorful flowers, bushes and trees, as well as admire the amazing architecture of a quintessential 1920s Bay Area neighborhood.

Then we spied something odd, an empty birdcage discarded near the curb. CB and I exchanged quizzical glances when, a moment later, we spotted a cat scratching post a few feet away.

“Oops,” I said. “I think I know what happened here.” CB nodded. In our collective subconscious we had instantly created a mutual story about a misbehaving feline who snacked on a pet canary. The bird was gone and the naughty cat was getting the boot for her indiscretion.

Of course there is no way we could know whether our story was accurate. Space is limited in this beautiful city and it makes more sense to discard items than to pay the cost of putting them in storage. We have seen numerous cast offs waiting for someone to claim it or sell it on craigslist. Sadly, there are lot of homeless men and women too, and perhaps these items could be of use to them, although I’m not quite sure how.

At the least, our story about the bird-eating cat was an amusing thought, made even more so when CB pointed out that we were on Bush Street and reminded me about the quote about a bird in the hand being worth more than two in the bush.

I knew I would write about the incident, but I wasn’t sure how I would pull it all together into any kind of meaningful story. Writing begins with a thought. Sometimes a premise takes a magical journey that blossoms into an intriguing tale, or it can spark and fizzle like a faulty firecracker that is too pooped to pop. Other notions are quickly discarded or just hit a dead end.

I love a good story. I enjoy reading, watching movies and even listening to someone regale an audience with an interesting anecdote. However, there are some messages that float around in our brain that don’t serve us well. You know the ones. “I’m not good enough. I’m too fat. They’ll probably pick someone else for the job, etc.”
Often, as we think these negative thoughts we create reruns in our head of unfortunate stories from the past. These internal movies are charged with color and emotion which gives them even more power. Each time we recreate these unfortunate images we carve pathways in our brain to these melodramas. When this connection is used a few times our thoughts take this neural short cut and it literally becomes a highway to hell. What is especially sad is no one does this to us. We create these sob stories ourselves.

Oddly, it doesn’t end there. We are creative people. We aren’t satisfied with the same old stories. We manufacture new ones. It makes me think of a skit I saw once about a woman whose husband was late for dinner. She let her fear run rampant. In her mind, he was stopping at the bar. Next he was flirting with the cocktail waitress. Before she knew it her spouse was having sex in the bathroom, contracting an STD and tossing his dutiful wife to the curb like an empty birdcage. When the man (who was completely innocent of all these imaginary transgressions) returns (only five minutes late due to clogged traffic) his harried wife threw his packed bag at him and announced she was divorcing him.

In the skit the story was funny, but when it happens in real life, the negativity can be disastrous.

Fortunately, we have the ability to write our own life scripts. It takes a little work to put a halt to our bad habits, but it can be done. Okay, now here comes my commercial.

If you are looking for an easy step-by-step book on how to erase negativity from your life, I hope you will read our book, Erase Negativity and Embrace the Magic Within. There are many good books on the market regarding developing optimism, but if you need a little nudge to boot out your internal grouch, our book may be the one for you.

Currently my co-author Jackie and I are offering a great deal. The ebook, normally $6.99, will be offered for $3.50 through Aug. 29. Customers must log on to http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/11183 and enter the code FF39E. The paperback version will be discounted from $14.99 to $10 plus shipping for those who email me through my blog or website www.erasenegativity.com. We are also offering discounts to organizations booking presentations on the Erase Negativity topic.

Most of us love the idea of embracing happiness. Unfortunately, latching onto joy if your hands are full of negativity (or dirty birds) makes the process harder. However, if you’re ready to make a change and kick those bad habits to the curb, just let us know. We’re ready to help.

Sally and Jackie

Just Say No to Negativity

My spouse, CB, and I had just finished shopping. We exited the store and heard a quick yell, screech of brakes and a “thump.” We looked up and saw a woman lying in the crosswalk. CB ran back into the store, yelled for the salesperson to call 9-11, and raced over to the woman. The driver of the truck who hit the pedestrian got out as well. I shut the truck door and helped direct traffic away from the injured woman as we waited for an ambulance to arrive.

CB is a physician, but has always been reluctant to mention it to strangers. It was one of the things I found endearing when we first met. I’m half Jewish and being a doctor is a very big deal. Why someone would have such an important career and not announce it to the world was beyond my comprehension. I come from a family who boast their accomplishments, as well as the deeds of their children and close friends. I’m a little more reserved about my own feats, but I am a PR person by trade, so I get my kicks trumpeting the feats of others.

CB, on the other hand, has always been more egalitarian. In this incidence, my spouse’s modesty was being mistaken for medical ignorance. I had taken some CPR courses with CB, but I’m by no means a medical expert. However, I like to be prepared in case of an emergency. My spouse knelt next to the woman to access her situation. The driver who hit her said we should move her off the street.

CB calmly said, “Sir, I strongly recommend against that. She could have a neck or back injury.” The guy persisted. I informed him CB was a doctor and knew what to do. The guy responded that he had worked in hospitals for many years (as if this made him more qualified than someone who had 12 years of medical education and more than 20 years of experience as a physician.) The guy persisted. This time I loudly said, “no!” He backed off and I proceeded to divert traffic while CB continued to access the situation until the paramedics arrived.

I think the woman is going to be okay, but she might not have been if CB hadn’t been there to prevent the truck driver from schlepping her from the asphalt to another location. My role in all of this was minor, but important. I didn’t try to reason with the driver. With an authoritative voice that surprised even me, I just said, “No!”

In the book, Erase Negativity and Embrace the Magic Within, my friend and co-author Jackie and I highlight stories of people who have overcome dramatic challenges in their lives. At the end of each chapter we also offer simple tips to erase negativity, as well as a few suggestions on how to embrace happiness.

Most of us want to blame outside influences as the source of our problems. My friend and fellow Buddhist, Ed Casper, posted the following anonymous quote on facebook from Buddhist Boot Camp.

“You’re not stuck in traffic; you ARE traffic. We blame society’ but we ARE society.”

Since all of us are members of society we need to own up to the contributions we make toward the good and evil in the world. I thought about this regarding internal negativity. We are bombarded with unpleasant news, grouchy people and sadness. However, we have the power to make positive choices. When the opportunity arises for a nasty thought, word or action, we can train ourselves to deflect it. In our book, we focus on three easy tips:

1. Recognize the problem.
2. Erase the negativity and replace it with something more empowering.
3. Smile, even if you don’t feel like it.

If you want to watch a short video about these three simple steps to happiness visit

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=208XAm-x3R8

Generally I’m an agreeable person. I don’t like to contradict others and I’m more likely to find diplomatic solutions than stir up trouble. However, there are times, such as when CB and I were trying to help the stricken pedestrian, that I had to speak up. The same is true of our own internal demons.

We have two choices. We can take the easy route and give in to the darkness of negativity, whether it is our own, or absorbing the nastiness that surrounds us. The second option is to stop negativity in its tracks.

I hope you will not use this story as an excuse to find a negative friend, co-worker, crazy driver or relative and begin anti-negativity crusade against them. Start with yourself. You are, after all, the only one whose thoughts, speech and action you can control.

Combating negativity isn’t easy. It takes consistent energy and work. We may not have the opportunity to rescue someone from a burning building, or perform medical miracles, but we have the power to erase our own negativity and embrace a happier life. And that is no small thing.

While I hope all of you who read this will buy our book and recommend it to others,
it really boils down to one thing. The next time a nasty thought, word or action tries to sneak out of your life and poison your happiness “Just Say No!”

Green Hair and Peeing on the Tidy Bowl Man

I remember the first time I saw someone with green hair. This was decades before punk rock, spikey hair and cell phones. It was the summer of 1968 and I was swimming at Kino Junior High School’s pool in Mesa, Arizona.

It was summertime and this brand new, Olympic-size pool was the city’s newest gem. I spied an athletic, female lifeguard. It seemed she was supposed to have blond hair, but her short, golden locks had a serious shade of emerald running through it.

I rubbed my eyes and looked again. I saw a couple other young men and women with jade-infused tresses.

“They can’t be doing that on purpose,” I thought to myself. “Was this part of a sorority or fraternity prank?”

I didn’t think too much about it until school started in the fall. Low and behold, one of the P.E. teachers, Miss Driscoll, had limey locks as well. I asked one of my friends (either brainy Beverly Berres or well-informed Janet Loughrey) and they set me straight. If you bleach your hair and swim a lot in a chlorinated pool it turns your hair green.

Who knew? I was saavy enough to acknowledge that if one urinated in a toilet with Tidy Bowl in it the water would turn green. My friend, Michele Fitzgerald's mom used Tidy Bowl in their commode. After I used their facilities I would exit and sing, "I turned the water green."

Why I felt I needed to sing this little ditty every time I peed on the Tidy Bowl Man, I'm not sure, but it became a tradition I kept up for years. It was much like my odd habit of donning an ugly curler cap even when my hair wasn't in rollers.

But I digress.

Decades have passed since that hot summer day at the pool, but apparently hair color catastrophes continue to be an unwanted experience by thousands of unsuspecting men and women each day.

Consider these true stories of wayward color gone bad.

• A young woman tried to color her hair and didn’t realize until it was too late that she missed a huge spot in the back that was obvious to everyone at the gym when she put her hair back in a ponytail.
• A truck driver let his new girlfriend color his hair but left the color on too long (they were drinking wine and having fun) and an hour later his hair was bright orange. Nothing to do but let it grow out for three weeks and keep on trucking.
• A minister wanted to appear more youthful and let his wife color his white hair. Even prayer didn’t help when his locks turned green.
• Linda Cobb, aka the Queen of Clean and author of numerous books on cleaning says the only safe place to color your own hair is in the backyard. Before focusing on the money you might save by forgoing the salon, consider the value and time of replacing your clothes, bathroom wallpaper and rugs, as well as the time spent scrubbing your sink and skin.

One of favorite clients owns cosmetology schools in Arizona, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Florida and Texas. I’ve learned a lot about hair while promoting their hair products and beauty schools. Apparently providing hair coloring services is a big chunk of a stylist’s business. Now that my brunette hair is turning grey, I understand why folks would want to use any methods to turn back the clock and restore their locks to their natural color, or experiment with other hues. However, it seemed there were only two alternatives.

1. Pay a bunch of money and have a professional stylist take care of the situation.
2. Buy a box of color and take a chance you won’t make a mess of things.

However, there is a third alternative. International Academy of Hair Design in Mesa, Tempe, Phoenix and West Phoenix is offering a 50% off discount on all color services at their award-winning cosmetology schools. The regular price of color services begin at $24 (long hair is extra.) and the special takes place Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday through Aug. 31. The same deal applies to ITS Academy of Beauty in Texas and Oklahoma, Olympian University in New Mexico and Hair Benders Academy in Florida.

All the locations, phone numbers, as well as information about services and student enrollment can be found at www.BeautySchoolRocks.com.

Looking back at my childhood memories of swimming and playing in the sun brings a smile to my face. So does the thought of my naiveté regarding chlorine and green hair. I think it’s great that we have so many options available to us for hair color.

However, if you want a change in color and style and don’t want to take a chance of a chromatic catastrophe, why not check out what services (or even career options) are available to you at Beauty School Rocks?

That said, I’d like to close with a quote from Frank Gelett .

“I never saw a purple cow; I never hope to see one; but I can tell you, anyhow, I'd rather see than be one.”

Interdependence Day

I was in San Francisco for the 4th of July this year. My spouse, CB, and I staked out a small plot of ground near the Bay to watch the fireworks. It was cool and crowded, but I was filled with anticipation. We listened to a live band and watched the hordes of people and pups that came out to celebrate our nation’s birthday.

We pulled up to San Francisco the Sunday before. As we approached our neighborhood the last remnants of the Pride Festival that had taken place that weekend were being removed. However, the court house was still bathed in an array of lights and rainbow flags wafted in the breeze in honor of the celebration. The mood was joyous for the GBLT community and their supporters fresh from hearing the Supreme Court ruling that ended California’s ban on same-sex marriage and struck down the discriminatory Defense of Marriage Act earlier that week.

Now my spouse and I were gathered among a throng of Americans sitting near the proverbial dock of the bay awaiting a fireworks display. I don’t like crowds. In fact I’m a bit claustrophobic, but since it is rare that I get to celebrate Independence Day in a balmy environment, I decided I could endure the crowds for a few hours.

We knew what to expect. CB’s co-workers, and the friendly cashier at Trader Joe’s informed us that the festivities were impressive, but the crowds were daunting. We had walked some five miles earlier that day and enjoyed a bright, sunny day meandering through the city, walking alongside a stream of cars ready to descend Lombard’s crooked street, popped into the Maritime Museum, chatted with a woman about America’s cup and then through the park on our way toward a bus stop near the Golden Gate Bridge.

We boarded a crowded bus (standing room only) and rolled along to within a few blocks of the studio apartment we were staying at for CB’s temporary assignment. We were both exhausted from our long walk. Once we entered our small apartment we fell into a deep sleep. It would have been easy to blow off the festivities and give in to nocturnal bliss (and give my aching dogs a respite) but I really wanted to enjoy a fireworks display in less than the triple digit heat that I had become accustomed to in Arizona.

The buses were even more crowded than before, so I forgot about the $2 I had stuck into my pocket for bus fare and we followed the throng of folks walking to the event. We arrived shortly before 9 p.m. and the place was jammed with people of every conceivable background. A young father in dred locks and his boisterous son sat in front of us, a Korean family sat to our left and several young men stood behind us, happily chatting in a mixture of Spanish and English.

At 9:30 p.m. the first fireworks were launched in sync with a variety of patriotic music. Further down the bay, a simultaneous display of sight and sound filled the air. The fireworks were awe inspiring. Everyone was silent except for the ahs and ohs and occasional bursts of applause at the spectacle.

I looked across the bay and thought of the thousands of people around me. People of all ethnicities, ages, religions and sexual orientation gathered peacefully together in very close quarters without a single fight. Even though I do not like being in a crowd, I thought it was a mild inconvenience compared to what my Swedish grandmother must have endured during her long boat passage to Ellis Island. How I wish I would have asked her more about her journey. What did my paternal grandfather and his elderly mother think as they exited the pogroms in Russia to find their way to Canada, and eventually the U.S. to begin a new life?

I am a second generation American on three sides of my family and potential DAR member on my maternal grandfather’s side. Yet I know I am the product of ancestors who faced great hardships to settle in this magnificent country. Most of the time it is something I take for granted. But sitting in the diverse crowd I thought of how grateful I was to be an American. As I looked around me I had new respect for the people surrounding me who, despite individual differences, wanted the same things I did.

Truth be known, we admire our individuality, but we cannot exist without each other. From the farmer who grows our food, the bus drivers who drive us to our destinations, the police officers directing traffic, to the sanitation workers hauling away our garbage, all have an important role in our lives.

As CB and I headed homeward and followed the throng through the streets (again the buses were too crowded and we had to hoof it) I thought of how this 4th of July would be forever etched into the hearts of the GLBT community. Although there is more work to be done, definitive steps have been taken in guaranteeing the rights of all Americans.

I am truly grateful to be an American. I may not always be at peace with the prejudice and hatred that still exists in the hearts of so many, but after spending a few days in San Francisco during a very historic week, I am hopeful we can attain the life, liberty and pursuit of happiness that is promised to us in our constitution.

On July 4th we celebrate our independence from Britain. My hope for the future is that we take a look around at our fellow human beings who silently take a role in our lives and recognize and honor our interdependence to one another. Then, and only then, will we truly be the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Crood Thoughts for Stimulating Happiness

It’s the middle of summer in Arizona and I’m hot and frustrated. A walk in nature would help, but unless I pour a bucket of water on my head and time my jaunt from midnight to 4 a.m. I’m likely to suffer heat exhaustion.

Last year I lived in the Pacific Northwest so I thought I’d revisit a blog from my experience there. Guess what? I was frustrated with the rain. After writing the first draft of this story I decided against revisiting the subject, but feel free to revisit my older posts. I have more than 300 of them.

But back to the present.

When it is so stifling hot, the last thing I want to do is go outside, but I really needed a change of scene. So I asked my daughter, Alicia, and granddaughters Rosannah and Briannah, if I could treat them to an afternoon at the movies. They happily agreed. We went to see The Croods. This cave family had to deal with harsh environments as well. It was funny, touching and a visual delight. There are a few scary moments too.

My most frightening observation was not part of the plot. It was the realization that the character I identified with the most was the old grandma (voiced superbly by Cloris Leachman.)

Her famous tagline was “still alive.” She would announce this statement to the chagrin of her son-in-law. I can only imagine this thought is NOT shared by Greg and Jamie (my daughter’s mates) but if it is, they would be too polite (or scared) to admit it. If experience has taught them anything it’s never piss off an old lady.

Anyway, we enjoyed the movie, spent a little time at the mall, and returned safely home. I went back to working on the computer and my daughter said the girls played happily together in their rooms. I think the family unity message had a positive effect on them.
Laughing during the movie, spending time with my family and changing my surroundings did a lot for my attitude as well. In an ideal world, I would have taken a walk, either by myself or with Rosannah and Briannah in tow. However, as in the movie, the outdoors can be a dangerous place (sun stroke anyone?) As also brought to light in the movie, sometimes you have to change the old thought patterns and come up with a new idea. While going to a movie is hardly an original thought, it became a welcome detour from my daily routine.

Whether we live in a harsh desert climate or a soggy forest, we can’t change the weather. However, we do have the ability to change our minds and attitudes. If we need a little help we can watch a funny movie or inspiring messages from self-help lecturers on you tube. In fact if you want to see some humorous insights from me, please visit

http://whttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=208XAm-x3R8

Also, because I like a sale as much as the next person, I’m offering one of my own. You can get my ebook, Erase Negativity and Embrace the Magic Within, for half price. The ebook, normally $6.99, will be offered for $3.50 through July 6. Log on to smashwords.com and find Erase Negativity. When you go to purchase it enter the code LU574. The paperback version will be discounted from $14.99 to $10 plus shipping for those who contact me directly by responding to this blog or emailing me through this blog.

Happy reading.

Father's Day Tribute to My Nutty Dad

I’ve been thinking about my dad lately. Father’s Day is here and even though my pop died more than 17 years, I still think about what kind of gift he might like to have for Father’s Day.

Dad had a weird sense of humor and wasn’t particularly helpful when we asked him for gift suggestions. Each year it was the same.

Me: “Dad, what do you want for Father’s Day?”

Dad: “A new butt. Mine’s cracked.”

This was the same response for Christmas, birthdays and other gift-giving occasions. I don’t know which was sillier, his corny response or the fact that my siblings and I continued to ask the same question.

That is not to say that we didn’t come up with some good gifts over the years. My brothers Terry and Dennis took him to ball games, my older sister , Diane, bought tickets so he and mom could go out to a show, my sister, Tina’s fiancé bought him a new television and VCR (back when the technology was new.) My sister-in-law, Joannie, always bought him a new pair of slippers. Dad wore slippers all the time so he needed replacements on a regular basis.

However, the gift that I think he enjoyed the most was a nutcracker my spouse, John, and I bought him. It wasn’t any ole nutcracker. This little marvel held the nut in place and a weight (released from a rubber-band-type launcher) cracked the pecans perfectly in half.

My dad loved nuts and we had three pecan trees in the yard. Having grown up in the heart of Chicago but probably being a country boy at heart, my dad loved it that he could go outside, gather nuts and pick fruit (especially citrus) and make something from scratch. Even during his years of dementia he never tired of making fresh squeezed lemonade or cracking a bowl full of pecans.

What made this gift special is it was directly related to his passion. Now cracking nuts is not MY passion, but it was something my dad loved to do. So rather than buy him Old Spice or another useless tie, we hit the mark with the nut cracker that year.

But now that my dad is gone, I still think of how I might have done things differently. What my father (and I think most fathers) want is to spend quality time with their children. As we get older we have the money to purchase bigger and better things, but finding the time to spend the day with dad is sometimes more difficult than cracking a nut without a nut cracker. It makes me think of the Harry Chapin song, “Cats in the Cradle” song chronicling the busy life of a father and son.

However, I found a simple answer while promoting my clients, International Academy of Hair Design, ITS Academy of Beauty, Hair Benders and Olympian University. They have a father/son special for TWO haircuts for $10. The regular price is $8 each. Here is a link to the Arizona press release, but the same deal is in effect at all their schools in Texas, New Mexico, Oklahoma and Florida.

http://www.prlog.org/12150439-double-duty-savings-for-fathers-day-at-international-academy-of-hair-design.html

You can also visit their website www.BeautySchoolRocks.com.

It can be difficult to find the time to spend an entire evening or afternoon with dad, but we all need to have our hair cut. Why not ask dad to come and join you for a simple errand? It could be a trip to the post office, a walk to the store, or you could even ask your pop to ride shot gun while you pick up the kids from school. The added bonus to the haircut idea is it shows dad that you know how to manage your money wisely. I don’t know about your father, but my dad would have been very pleased to see that I knew a good deal when I saw one.

I miss my dad, but when I think of the corny things he used to say, it still makes me smile. I remember an anecdote last year. I was helping my granddaughter with her toilet training. She goes to preschool and she is obsessed with naming things. She pointed to her butt and said, “What’s my butt’s name?” I told her “Briannah’s butt.” If she would have said “I want a new one, mine’s cracked” I would know that my dad had reincarnated back into our lives again. Even still, it’s nice to know the little nut didn’t fall far from the tree.