While I’m no different, I’m a bit fortunate in a way, that I’m an entrepreneur and don’t own a store front. That means, I don’t have to be committed to selling pools because I can quickly hang up a new “sign” on my website, and print up new free cards at VISTA PRINT, and transform into something new every day if I wanted. Of course the whole process of sales and marketing takes time, so that wouldn’t be wise, but I have definitely added to my services over the past few months. We’ve added newsletter services, direct mailings and marketing pieces, and are helping people get up to speed on social networking sites. Wherever there is a need, we’ll fill it. I have an arsenal of professionals just waiting to get to work.. and I’m out there promoting them.

Meanwhile, that process in between the marketing time and the sale, can be a bit frustrating. You throw a ton of stuff out there and promote, promote, promote, hoping to get a sale. And part of why a person will start work with someone new, is because they like their tenacity, their confidence in their product and they feel like they’re the “best man for the job”. They also pick up on their attitude, and if that attitude suggests that the well is dry, and that there is an air of desperation in the air, the buyer WILL go elsewhere.

So how does a person do it? When they’re marketing their law service or their accounting service and need and want to attract customers, how do they stay fresh and positive and confident that they ARE the best person for the job.

There are several tips that I have been following and am encouraging those that I speak with to follow as well.

1. Turn off the news. You don’t need to know it to promote your products and services.
2. Hang around positive people! Seek them out and make a coffee date with them.
3. Drag out the motivational books. There were tons of people who became millionaires during the depression, because they did what others were not willing to do. By doing a bit of research, I found that there were lots of people who did make money during the depression, through investments, and liquefying companies etc.
4. Prepare for the worst. Just like families in California have a plan in the event of an earth quake and those of us in hurricane states have a plan in the event of a hurricane, have a plan for what could happen.
A. Save some Cash- at least a few thousand $ and keep it hidden.
B. Have some skill that people will want to barter… just in case we get to the point where you barter for everything.
C. Keep learning, because there just might be the BIG idea lurking right around the corner that might make you your million!
5. Expect the best! Live in gratitude every day. Be thankful for what you have – your health, your friends, your home, and the little things. Our perspective needs to change a bit, and our expectations, but we can adjust and find the good in all of it.

We’re going to be fine! We’re a strong country! We’re survivors and we’re pioneers! Let’s get out there and make it happen!!

Keeping it real.. every day!

“Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!” My father yelled at me. “Can’t you do anything right?”

Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn’t prepared for another battle. “I saw the car, Dad. Please don’t yell at me when I’m driving.”

My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt. Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil.

What could I do about him? Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess. The years marched on relentlessly.

The first time he couldn’t lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn’t do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor’s orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad’s troubled mind.

But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it. The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, “I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.”

I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog. I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world’s aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly. I pointed to the dog. “Can you tell me about him?” The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. “He’s a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we’ve heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.” He gestured helplessly. As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. “You mean you’re going to kill him?” “Ma’am,” he said gently, “that’s our policy. We don’t have room for every unclaimed dog.” I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. “I’ll take him,” I said.

I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. “Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!” I said excitedly. Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. “If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don’t want it” Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house. Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. “You’d better get used to him, Dad. He’s staying!” Dad ignored me. “Did you hear me, Dad?” I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw. Dad’s lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal. It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship.

Dad named the pointer Cheyenne. Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet. Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad’s bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends.

Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne’s cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father’s room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night. Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad’s bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad’s peace of mind.

The morning of Dad’s funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.”"I’ve often thanked God for sending that angel,” he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article… Cheyenne ‘s unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . ..his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all. Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time. Share this with someone.

Lost time can never be found.

I missed it.

I did try. I sat down and started to write. But all I could come up with was this:

“God help me. God help me. God help me”.

Why? Well, because I live with a son who has been diagnosed on the Autism spectrum. And when we are feeding him 100% organic, no preservatives, limited dairy, glutten, wheat, and he takes all of his 12 vitamins a day and is on NO sugar, and exercises every day, we live a relatively normal life.

When we have Halloween and I cave to his thousands of requests for pop tarts and other sugar infested crap, our life takes a nose dive…. like it did recently.

The stress can get so bad because my son can’t sit for more than a minute at a time. I can’t get him to eat, I can’t get him to get dressed and my beautiful, funny and charming son has his own agenda, and mommy and dad often lose their cool.

Luckily, we understand that ALL parents need breaks, but especially those with challenging situations… and I had off last week, so I gave my husband a few days “off” where he got to stay with my parents to just relax and focus on whatever he wanted to.

Today is a different story. Things have gotten better. The sugar is coming out of his system and the exercise and the low stress/stimulation in our home is working. And most importantly, God did help me. And how did He help me? By sending amazing people my way to support me.. in so many ways. But here is an example of complete amazing support…

“I’ve been on set the past couple of days but just wanted to send you some strength and positive energy. I can’t relate to what you’re going through, but I do sense in you a unique resolve to handle even the most challenging circumstances. Sending you my best. Peace”,

“Hi Mary; Sorry you’re having a rough time. . I can imagine that it must be very hard for you. (It makes raising my 3 teenage boys seem e-z.) If you want to talk on the phone, please let me know. Hang in there.”

“I’m right there with you, Mary.Here’s praying the help continues to come showering down upon you!!!”

“I am sorry that you are having such struggles in your life right now — butI know that if God is with you, you will overcome whatever life throws at you. “With God nothing is impossible.” You and I both know that, but sometimes it takes a lot to really know and trust it. The hard part is applying it to our lives, to put it into action. May I offer one thought? You are not failing at life right now…you are succeeding at standing while the tempest of life swirls around you. Having the ability just to stand, in the midst of the storm, is a very courageous thing to do. And, even more courageous because your child depends on you to do so. Actually, I am moved and impressed at the way you are standing. So,not a failure at all. “Be still and know that I am God,” is the requirement of the day.

“Mare, hang in there, you’re doing great things and you’re helping so many of us parents know that there are others out there who understand so thank you”.

“Mary, please feel free to use our mountain house anytime you guys want to get away”These are the things that are important to a person who are dealing with a chronic disability or going through a tough time.

So you can imagine how great I feel today. In addition, my son’s teachers have been extra helpful and understanding with us being late, and with me bringing shoes and socks because he couldn’t put them on without freaking out this morning, and to top it all off, my darling, sweet mom came and cleaned my house yesterday.

Here are the things that have helped me:
1. Just a kind word that I’m doing the right thing
2. Extra prayer support – and they really do it.. don’t just say it!
3. Words of wisdom and understanding… or just told me to SHARE and VENT.
4. Help with my HOUSE
5. Help with my child- mom did homework with him… WHAT a relief! (And another family offered to take our son for a weekend… which was so generous… and VERY tempting! )
6. Gave my husband and I an opportunity to get away.. as a family or as a couple
7. Bought me lunch – and gave me an opportunity to just get OUT and feel NORMAL.

Were any of these expensive? Nope! They took time, and effort but not a lot of money.. the most was lunch….. and that was about $10 and can I tell you how grateful I was!? Immensely!

So today I sit here thankful, that I have friends and associates who are really, really good human beings. They took a minute out of their day to share their warmth with me and support.. and it has been amazing.

So now, because I’m so grateful, I have ½ hour and I’m going to send notes to people who I know that I can support.. and tell them that I am praying for them.. and that I care for them.

I saw this poem lately that also gave me strength:

Happiness keeps you sweet.
Trials keep you strong.
Sorrows keep you human.
Failures keep you humble.
Success keeps you glowing.
But only God keeps you going!

And God provides us friends! Thank you everyone! You got me through.

Every once in a while a person captures your attention that is out of the ordinary. Perhaps you see someone treating someone exceptionally well, or a mommy happily playing with her baby or a person who struggles for every step. Occasionally, those moments can make you send up a silent prayer of thanks, give you a chuckle, or even make you stand there in amazement at what you just witnessed.

I’ve had a few experiences like that on the road on my trip. Today I was in the airport and spotted a bellman energetically walk up to a lady in a wheel chair. He was a tall, thin, African American man about 30+, and she was an elderly Caucasian woman probably over 80. The way he talked with her was as if the wheel chair was just an accessory and he hardly noticed. He said, “Hey! How are you today?” And that is when I started watching. He truly treated her with tons of respect and love. He didn’t know her apparently but he treated her so nice I was compelled to mention the guy to the man checking my ID and boarding pass. I was just amazed that he would treat her so well.
I was somewhat overcome with gratitude that there are such caring people in the world.

Another incredibly impressive person was a swimmer swimming in the lap pool during open swim in Indianapolis. No one was in his lane but him. He took forever to get across the pool because his arms were contorted in a way that didn’t allow his left arm to get up much beyond his stomach and his right arm wasn’t much better. He obviously had M.S or something. The thing that impressed me over and over was that he never stopped! I mean that as much of a struggle that it took to get across the pool every single lap, he never once stopped at the wall to take a breather. He kept GOING and GOING and GOING and GOING! He was like the energizer bunny!

I wanted to stop to talk with him, to ask him how he did it. He never stopped but what I wanted to know is what does he think about? Does he focus on what he can’t do? Or is he pushing himself to accomplish things that no one would expect? What motivates him? How did he get so much determination in his soul? Why wouldn’t he just take a break? He was working so hard!

I asked the life guard about him. I fantasized about making a movie around the swimming pool of a guy who struggles for every stroke and every breath, yet he continues to swim. The motivation was a dream from long ago fired by support from his mom that he had talent and should never, ever quit; even if his talent didn’t look like the normal swimmer in the water.

The lifeguard didn’t know much about him other than the fact that he swam there all the time. The other thing that the lifeguard told me was that the man could walk completely normally. And he happened to walk out while I was doing my own laps, so I never got to speak with him.
It is my belief that we come into contact with people for a purpose. Sometimes it’s to listen to us, sometimes to challenge us and sometimes to inspire us. If we spend some time looking at who comes into our path every day, we’ll be more aware of the many lessons that life can teach us. If we happen to pay attention, even to the ones who might get in our way, because they might be the ones that might inspire us the most!

It’s really interesting to coach and consult for some of these people. They have been the bosses in many jobs prior to the current job. They know what they’re doing. They can actually do some of these jobs with their eyes closed but they’re coming to me because they want to get ahead quicker and don’t have a mentor as they may have had earlier in their career and they know the value of working with a coach.

In several of these cases, I’m consulting, which means that I have to share with the client what to do. Coaching is helping them discover it on their own. But in my case, I have a lot of expertise that they need so I’m there to tell them what is going to work and what isn’t going to work.

And in a few of these cases recently, I’ve had to use the analogy of Iron Sharpens Iron!!! And it’s true! These people are challenging me over and over and because I know what I’m talking about, I’ve had to tell them to trust me, and to understand that I’m on their team and that I want them to succeed. But, I’ve told them, that if they keep doing what they’ve always done, they’ll get the results they’ve always gotten!!!

One of my friends, Carlos, told a story that captured what is happening in my business right now. He told me that he used to be a white water rafting guide and part owner of the company and recently he went to Colorado to visit and went rafting. He automatically started barking out orders and immediately, the guide whose boat it was, yelled at him to stop yelling orders. He said, “this is my boat, and we’ll do it my way!” If the passengers listen to you and not me, we could have an accident!!

My friend was a bit shell shocked.. mostly at his own reaction of taking over the helm of someone else’s boat. It was natural for him to do, but the second he was commanded to stop, he did.

Those of us with strong personalities and who have had success sometimes have to regress a bit when venturing into something new. We have to put away the need to always be right, and the need to have everything go our own way. Sometimes, when moving in a new direction, there are others who can guide us, and because we do have strong personalities and great experience, we might occasionally bump heads.

I’ve learned along the way, that bumping heads is normal, natural and not something to avoid. It’s going to happen, and when it does, it can make both professionals better, because the one who is leading, has to explain in a way that another leader can understand and agree to and follow.

Iron sharpening iron is keeping me focused on understanding that my clients are knowledgeable and successful, but coming to me to get the best of the best. I’m helping them write speeches, present themselves better professionally, as speakers, in the media or on video, and to their companies leading meetings. They’re learning to motivate their staffs, coach their teams and to lead more effectively.

Iron sharpens Iron. And I am determined to keep myself and my clients sharp!

As a business traveler I’ve been privileged to meet many extraordinary people in ordinary circumstances. It truly does seem that everyone has a story.

I met Pete, the 50 something Health care professional who left his mom today for the last time. He confided in me that his mom was probably going to die later on today and that he said his last goodbyes. Tears welled up in me as I heard him tell the story of how his mom told him that she could see his dad and her sister at the end of her bed. His dad had died in 2003 and her sister years before. He told his mom that they were waiting for her and that it was okay to go. He comforted her by saying that everyone who was still here was going to be fine and that she would be missed.

I met Maria, the long time public school PE teacher who now worked in a non school environment who now bubbled with passion over the non traditional way of allowing kids to learn what they want when they want. She assured me that kids have a natural desire to learn and that in time, they all accomplish the things they need to learn in order to be successful.

I met Nathan, the 26 year old fast tracker in the financial industry who looked like the perfect crisp fraternity boy who had success written all over him. He was charming and humble and curious what life would bring. He was a swimmer in high school and recently ran 10K without training and it gave him a run for his money. He reminded me of another friend in the financial industry and so I promised to introduce them with the hopes of my friend Brian who is a fast track executive in the same industry.

The list of interesting people that I have met on the road just goes on and on. It’s true that every single person you meet has a story. It’s usually a really interesting story too, and at some point throughout the conversation, you can usually find how you’re connected to the person, by race, religion, region, friend, industry, or interests.

I’ve found that we are naturally connected to everyone. What gets in the way of any meaningful relationship is ourselves. In 99 times out of 100, if we get our own egos out of the way, our own fear of talking with others, then we can share of ourselves, and experience the true joy of being connected to another.

The stranger is no longer a stranger. They have now become a friend.

That was how I was with piano. My mom made me practice over and over and over. Even though the practice made me quite proficient at playing difficult pieces, I still wasn’t a natural at reading music. I had to practice until I could learn the notes and finally I would have practiced it so many times that I naturally memorized it. By that time, I was driving my whole family crazy with the same song like The Entertainer, which drove my sister and brothers crazy for years! Any time I wanted to get under their skin, I’d play that song. Of course, it’d make my parents happy that I was playing after all of the money they spent on lessons, and the ultimate was that I got my siblings raging mad! So for then, playing piano was a perfect fit for me and of course the best part was annoying my siblings!

Through the years, I’ve poked around at the piano, but still have the same challenge of not really reading notes fluidly. But when I realized that playing piano is on my life time goals list, then I realized that I was going to have to start from ground zero, and start learning about it. So yesterday, I picked up a music book with Beethoven’s 5th symphony and started reading about him and about his music so I could start to understand how the music was inspired.

I set about to start reading after I had sent my son to school. That is when the house is quiet and the birds are outside singing and all is good with the world. That is the time of day that all good things are a possibility, and all of the stress from getting ready for school is gone, and I feel one with the world.

So, I sat down to read about Beethoven. What I read was really interesting! Beethoven started writing music at age 25. He wrote most of his music between the ages of 30 -45. He started going deaf at that time and by the time he was in his 40s he was completely deaf. Interestingly enough, the silence brought him his most masterful work, since he was unable to hear the critics and able to tune out any clutter in the world and concentrate completely on his music that existed in his head.

Beethoven was a master at repetition. It was almost as if he was drilling into the listener’s ear about his purpose in life was to bring this certain melody to the world and that he wanted you to GET IT. But using repetition can be monotonous to the listener and can just kill a piece. So what Beethoven did was he would use a variation of the line and alter the notes ever so slightly, still to make it sound like it was in unity with the other part of the music, but different enough to make it interesting. This was part of his brilliance and he sometimes worked for months and years to perfect each piece. Until he found the right note or combination of notes and made it perfect, it wasn’t complete.

I started thinking about repetition in our own lives and how we use it. We tell our kids the same things redundantly, “wash your hands, brush your teeth, say please and thank you.” And still, we must continue drilling it in because they always forget. We tell our spouses to take out the trash or please help with the chores and we share with our work associates to keep focused or to continue their own personal growth. But how many times do we start sounding like a broken record? Are people really listening to us? Are we becoming monotonous and deadly to our friends and family?

Next time you start hearing yourself yelling at your kids or find yourself repeating the same old line you’ve mumbled a thousand times, try some variety! Instead of telling your kids they’ll be punished, tell them they’ll be tickled! Or instead of leading a meeting the same way at the same time every week, perhaps throw in some humor or a story to change things up a bit. Show your friends and family that you care for them, the listener, by being willing to change your own tune, vary your voice and your message, just a bit, so the same theme is gotten across, just in a different way.

Looking to Beethoven for guidance on life might be a stretch, or it might be a lifesaver. Depending upon how you look at it.

Try it on for size. And just once, your audience may actually approve… and take action!

Verna, who works for Mark Brooks’s company, Courtland Brooks Agency was the press contact who sat me on a bench and brought one interesting entrepreneur to me after another. She kept my plate full with dynamic people doing incredible things on the web.

One such person was a guy by the name of Markus Frind. Markus is a regular kind of guy who looks really smart and wears really cool glasses but when I saw his company name, I nearly got weak at the knees. I started jumping up and down and screaming like I was meeting a rock star. And to me, I was!!! My husband had just recently read an article about Markus who is the owner and founder of the number 1 dating website in the world called Plentyoffish.com Before I stopped screaming and jumping up and down I quickly called my husband and asked him the name of the website we were reading about recently. When he announced it was plentyoffish.com, I promptly handed the phone over to him and introduced the two programmers to one another.

Before you start thinking that I’m a complete geek, let me share, that one report stated that Markus makes about 10 million $ a year off of his free social networking site. Although he didn’t confirm it to me, he told me he stopped sharing the amount of money he was now making. Oh yah, and did I mention, that he only has one employee?? And his biggest competitors, like eharmony or match.com employee 400-500 people? Markus is just ONE person, and he’s recently hired one gal to work for him.

After getting over my initial shock that I was sitting with Markus Frind, the founder of www.plentyoffish.com, I settled in on asking the questions that I wanted to know! I wasn’t interested in how he did it necessarily; I was more interested how one person could achieve such dramatic results, and what sort of person he was to focus on one major purpose like he did.

So my questions started: why did he pick opening a dating website? Because he wanted to service as many people in the general population as possible. How did he do it with just one person? He focused every single day on how to make it better and while he would listen to the feedback from the participants, he ultimately listened to his gut instinct. Why was his site so special I asked? Not because it looked good he told me. He said programmers like bells and whistles, but the average person just wants it to work. That’s all they care about! He doesn’t try to make it look good. He just wants it to be great at allowing people to meet. Then I asked where he worked and what sort of person he was? He told me he grew up on a farm in Canada, originally from Germany and he didn’t know the language when he moved there, but over time he grew up and found he liked programming. He told me he lived in a 2 bedroom apartment and didn’t any distractions. He was competitive, and just loved that he was like David in David and Goliath. I loved that scenario. I loved it that he was sitting in an apartment continuing to make his site better and better, and not out spending all of his money on himself. He didn’t get caught up in the glamour of the money and continued to keep his life simple. I commented to him that now he could afford boats and cars and houses anywhere. He did admit to buying a BMW, but that was about it. He also travels a lot now but other than that, he still likes things simple.

It was such a pleasure to meet Markus. I am impressed by his accomplishment of course, but more than that, by how he chooses to live. He lives simply and without the bravado. It made me want to scale back, and to stop the thousands of things that I do, and think about the ONE thing that I want to achieve.

What about you? Do you have one project that gets you up early every day and keeps you up at night? Do you spend your precious energy thinking about how to make it better or more improved?

Just think about what one person can do. When one person gets completely focused, and puts all of their heart, mind and soul behind a project, the possibilities are limitless.

The power of One.
It’s all we really need.
The power of ONE.

I have to admit, this is the time of year that we’re so eternally grateful to be living in Central Florida. It’s about 65 degrees in the morning and just blue, blue skies. We take the dog and we walk about the 2 small lakes that are near our house and we run into neighbors and say hello to other couples who are taking their morning walk.

When we lived in Princeton, NJ, we’d walk along Lake Carnegie and we’d both take the time to coach one another. One would talk on the way up the lake and the other would listen and then we’d switch and let the other talk while the other coached and listened. It was so great to just process the day before and to plan the day ahead. For many years then, we walked in Central Park in NYC and now, we walk the beautiful neighborhoods in Winter Park, where we now live.

I find that in today’s world, which is so crazy busy all of the time, that it’s hard to take the time to connect with my husband. When we’re home, I’m usually doing laundry, or cleaning something or making dinner or putting Jeremy in the tub or to bed. Sway is usually doing something on the “honey do” list or at his computer, returning emails that are urgent from one of his companies. Every morning, one of us is up and at the YMCA at 5:30 to meet our work out partners, and Sunday, is really the only day we get to sleep in. We’re both working hard to maintain a balanced lifestyle, and that means that we HAD to find time to connect with one another.

The walks have now become something we both look forward to. On days that he has an early morning meeting or has to interview someone, he can’t go on the walk, but our dog Mallory is forever faithful and will start barking at me to take her. If I have an early morning client, then Mallory usually gives up and heads to the back to hang out on her favorite chair. But nothing takes the place of a walk for her. That is “it” for her.

Today we said hi to a gal who I’ve met a few times on my walks and we talked about the differences of the prep schools versus the Catholic school versus the public schools here in Winter Park. It was a great perspective that we hadn’t heard before. So, I’m guessing that on our next walk, we might discuss that as an option for our child one day. Today we discussed what to do over the holiday and who we need to buy gifts for. It is usually simple conversation, but so very important to our lives.

For those of us who work, and get those 2 minute conversations with our mate throughout the day, taking time to walk is a great addition to the day. Not only are we getting a bit more exercise than normal, but we’re connecting as friends. I’ve found that that is so important during our busy lives, which are filled with stressful moments.

Try the walk. You might be pleasantly surprised.

Today I wrote a sentimental letter to about 10 people who I considered my closest friends from when I was a little kid. I reminded them of the fun relays we used to have, and the swim meets where we spent time unified as a team, and reminded my first boyfriend of our childhood dates to McDonalds. It was a simpler time then, when as 8 and 10 year olds, we could ride our bikes a couple of miles to the pool by ourselves, spend the whole day and come home for dinner. We’d stay and play after swim practice and our parents didn’t have a care in the world because they knew who everyone was and that all of us were being taken care of by the other parents.

Thinking back to the old times and to the people that we were has been a wonderful experience for me. None of us had really gone through any awkward social times by that time, and all of the boys and girls hung out with each other with no expectations and no agendas. I remember years later when my first boyfriend from 7th grade made fun of me in front of others in high school and I remember thinking that he had changed somehow, and that he was no longer the boy who I knew “way back then.” I publicly ignored his taunting, but it did hurt to know that we didn’t share that special friendship any more.

Then, he grew up and became a very successful and powerful professional in the Orlando area and someone I’d probably never have the chance to meet as an adult. But today in an email, I reminded him of whom he was when he was 9 years old, and who I was and I know that he smiled when he clicked the “send” button to let me know that he’d love to come to a swim team reunion.

Our coach was one of the most important people in my life. He believed in me and told me on the side of the pool one day that I could be anybody I wanted to be in life.. He told me that if I worked hard, if I wanted to swim in the Olympics, that I had the talent to do so. While that never came true, I still remember feeling special, and often credited him as the person who gave me that extra push in life.

Last night when I was reminiscing due to spending time at the “old” pool, but not seeing anyone have NEAR as much fun as we used to have, I decided to throw an old reunion for my former team members. So this morning I wrote to as many people as possible from the old team and reminded them of the good ol’ days. I wrote about the pizza parties, the relays, the late summer nights, the slumber parties, the swim meets and the pranks we pulled on each other. Then I told them that they were all very special to me, and that I’d love to see them again and suggested we have a reunion. I shared with them that I’ve been to too many funerals lately, and it seems that too many people share the same thought: “I wish I would have told him how special he was to me.”

So now, I sit at my computer anxiously awaiting the response. Will they think I’m incredibly corny? Will they be embarrassed for the stories I told? Will they want to forget those ol’ Happy Days and not live in the past? Or will they chuckle and for a moment, revert back to being a kid in their minds, and remember the great times we all shared and know that they wouldn’t miss this reunion for the world?

I’ll take a risk to be corny, and to be called mushy or whatever else they come up with for me after reading my invitation. I just feel content that I’m not waiting to let these people know how special they are, before it’s too late.