Category Archives: Courage

Start a Foolish Project- an experiment in aliveness.

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As I lay down in yoga recently, a line from a Rumi poem came to me:

Start a huge,  foolish project
like Noah.

It makes absolutely no difference 
what people think of you.

It felt like a message. Nothing short of divine. I had been feeling around in the dark all year for my next e-course but coming up short. I wanted to create something that would delight + energize me. Something that would be a huge gift to my community. Something that connected all of us in a meaningful way.

My body buzzed with excitement as I realized what my next offering would be– Start a Foolish Project! And by foolish, I mean awesome. Foolish projects are those things we do simply for the delight and the joy.

They are things like creating a wish tree or hosting a Storybowl. They might be organizing a bubble flash mob in the park or a book club for people who only read self-help books. A foolish project might be buying that pink ukulele that caught your eye and learning to play it. A foolish project could be deciding to make 10,000 hats and give them away.

Foolish projects make us feel alive.

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Here’s my foolish project:

I am going to gather a group of women here in Berkeley (you’re invited!), hire a choreographer and learn a cheesy dance routine. Emphasis on cheesy. Then, we’re going to flash mob it! Yes, like in those you tube videos. Doesn’t that sound like so much fun?!!!

Foolish projects appeal to my sense of play, my desire to feel alive + my love of stories. No matter what happens, you will always have the story about that time you were in a cheesy flash mob, right? Even if it was a total disaster. It really doesn’t matter.

What’s your foolish project?

Maybe you do something like my friend Maya Stein who decided to celebrate her 40th birthday by bicycling across the country dragging an old-fashioned typewriter and holding spontaneous poetry workshops.

Or maybe you are more like that woman I heard about last year that was craving community. She decided to drag her rarely used farm table to her backyard, hung some twinkly lights and extended an open invitation to her neighbors for a potluck dinner every Sunday evening at 6pm. She transformed her entire community this way.

Join me + discover the foolish project inside of you.

 

andrea

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This 5 week course begins July 1st, 2013.

Early bird registration available now for $79!

If you are in the Bay Area and want to be a part of my cheesy flash mob, you are more than welcome. The more, the merrier. (superherosf@gmail.com)

 

 

How to Be Legendary

Ben rocking out in the kitchen

Ben rocking out in the kitchen

Ben was in a talent show at the local toy store last year.

When I asked him what he’d like to do, he said he’d like to perform one of his songs. His “songs” at the time were a mashup of jewish folk tunes and heavy metal. The likes of which this world might never have seen before!

He practiced outside the toy store with me, “Hine ma tov uma-na-im… (and now insert growly, deep, heavy metal voice) shevet achim gam yavat…”

It was, in short, awesome.

Ben was so excited to get on stage when we entered the store that he insisted on MC’ing the whole thing and asked if he could perform first. As I sat in the audience with my iphone video all ready to go, I saw the surprise in his eyes. It was fear but it was also surprise at how scared he actually was. He didn’t expect this at all! As a result of the sheer, unexpected terror, nothing came out of his mouth.

You can do it! all of us called out. The entire room of kids cheered him on. But he crumpled, literally, and fell to the ground. I can’t do it! he shouted from the floor.

Another kid went instead and did a fart song by putting her hand inside her armpit. (Super impressive I might add) Then a boy who was great at yo-yo did his thing.

Ben was ready to try again. I readied my camera, said a little prayer and all of us cheered again, but he was terrified and ran off the stage.

“Try starting with your back to us!” I encouraged, and that seemed to help. He started his song with his back to the audience and eventually mustered up the courage to turn around. He improvised a song, a hilarious mix of metal and rap and jewishness, and we all cheered when it was over.

He was a bit mortified by the whole thing.

But here’s what I want to share with you: Ben is now LEGENDARY at Mr. Mopp’s toy store in Berkeley. Every time we go in there, the owner says, “Ben! We loved your song at the talent show! You have a lot of fans here.” Other employees will literally come out of the back and gather around. “Ben is here! Yeah, the one from the talent show!”

They love him.

And my guess is that they love him because he was brave.
They love him because he was human.
He was afraid and he went for it anyway.

He sang a song, his song. And even though he couldn’t quite look anyone in the eyes when he did it, he did it anyway.

Ben once asked me what a legend was. I told him it was someone that people talked about for many years after they were gone, even hundreds of years, because they were so extraordinary. “Like Jesus?” he asked. “Yes. Like Jesus. And Miles Davis.”

“I want to be a legend,” he told me.

I think he’s well on his way. And he is teaching me that being brave + vulnerable is key. The crowd loves you all the more for it.

 

 

On getting more help thank you think you deserve*

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I was honored to participate in the Mother’s Day Rally for Mental Health on Katherine Stone’s blog (Postpartum Progress) this year. Katherine posted letters to new moms from 24 writers who have gone through postpartum depression or anxiety. Each letter is so moving + powerful… and a must-read for your mama friends out there. So many of us don’t realize what we’re going through until we’re on the other side. We don’t get the support we need because we think we don’t deserve it, or that it’s not that bad, or we’re too ashamed…

These letters bust through all of that and share the real deal. So proud to be a part of it. Share it with the moms in your life. My piece is getting more help thank you think you deserve.

 

A Love List: What your mama really wants for Mother’s Day

Laurie listening to Ellen

Laurie listening to Ellen

I went to a birthday party for a dear friend recently. Since Laurie had been going through some major transitions this year, we wanted to gift her something really special and from the heart. Sherry suggested we all make her a “Love list.”

A Love list is pretty simple.

1. Write down 10 things you love about this person.
2. Tell them what you admire about them, what you appreciate, why they inspire you.
3. Read it to them in person, over the phone, or put a stamp on it and send it off with love.

As I wrote my love list for Laurie, I was filled with gratitude. There was so much to love about her! and I felt so lucky to be counted as one of her dear ones.

She didn’t know we wrote these lists. We surprised her by reading them out loud, one by one after dinner, and watched the tears fall from her cheeks. She received each gift so beautifully… and we were all a puddle by the end. It was a gift to all of us.

Lara and Sherry and Laurie

Lara and Sherry and Laurie

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Laurie and Lara

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Me reading to Laurie

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Me and Laurie

Have you ever given a love list? Have you ever received one? What was it like?

 

The Ruffler

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Self portrait, eyes closed

We have a “Ruffler.”

This is what Ben called him the first time it happened, the first time our car was broken into last year. We went to open the door of our car one morning and discovered that it was ajar. Trash was strewn all over the passenger seat along with owners’ manuals, registration papers, a swiss army knife, a few tampons and a number 2 pencil. All that seemed to be missing was the spare change. I explained to Ben that someone had rifled through our car in the middle of the night.

But who ruffled our car? Ben asked in disbelief.

I like calling him the Ruffler because it sounds more friendly, less like a violation and more like a person who simply makes mischief and mess wherever they go. We also have a name for this guy because he has done this to our car a good 7 times now. Every time we have forgotten to lock the doors– those occasions when I have extracted a screaming toddler from the car seat and hurriedly ushered him into the house (thus forgetting to lock up) the Ruffler strikes again.

It’s possible he is the most dependable force in my life. A law of the Universe. Pure cause and effect.

I’ve been more diligent about locking doors since the Ruffler came into our lives. Not just the car doors, but the house as well. He demands that I cross my T’s more than usual; he demands a kind of precision and excellence that perhaps I let fall by the wayside. I imagine he is a kind of angel, here for a purpose, to protect me from a much greater harm with his annoying shenanigans.

I have been tempted to leave the car door open and rig a camera in there, to film the Ruffler in action. He has left cigarette butts in the car before, garbage, and once a nice pair of sunglasses that I’m guessing he acquired from another vehicle. But I don’t really want to know who he is.

I prefer to think of him as a force or an energy, not a real person.

I prefer to think of him as someone who asks me to stay present and awake, who remembers to check the doors before falling asleep, who reminds me of the simple laws of the Universe.

 

Celebrating Myriam

 

 

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You might remember a ritual I did with a few friends last year. We gathered feathers and let them go. For Myriam, pictured above, it was a long infertility journey on her heart – a lot to let go of – but we all felt so much hope as we gathered again on the sand. We knew that baby was on its way.

I visited Myriam last week in southern california and it was my total delight and joy to photograph her, her husband and that gorgeous belly on the beach in Laguna. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Myriam more beautiful, and that’s saying a lot.

I just wanted to share these photos today, to celebrate Myriam and also to celebrate how life can surprise us again and again.

This is me, looking into my own eyes with kindness.

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Self-portrait, shot with Canon 6D

I caught myself today, telling my sister a tired old story on the telephone. You know the ones I mean –the thing you have been complaining about for years, the thing that never seems to change, the one that always brings you anguish. When I hung up today (after venting at length) I noticed how my body felt- icky, tainted, like I had just eaten an entire bag of fritos.

I think I’m done telling that story, I thought to myself.

I need a new narrative. One that’s still true but makes me feel empowered + hopeful.

I went on a photo walk this afternoon. I wanted to shake my legs and get in the mood for the Treasure Hunt course starting in a couple of days.

I found myself taking self-portraits, click click click and then peering into the tiny screen to see how they came out. Sometimes it’s hard to look at yourself, isn’t it? My skin is mottled, my eyes are too small, I should wear makeup… the critic had a steady stream of commentary. Then I remembered something that Vivienne McMaster had shared with me, a self-portrait exercise where you look into the lens with total kindness + love.

I decided to try it, peering into the camera with the kindest part of my heart. I acted as if I were looking at my own boys, tiny and perfect and beautiful. Not only did it feel good to do this, but the shots turned out so much better.

I’m not sure what this new story is. (I will have to call on one of my life coach friends for this one)

What I do know, is that the key will be starting from this place of kindness and love. From this angle, things are bound to look so much more hopeful + beautiful.

 

Sad bananas. A treasure hunt is in order!

Sad banana, shot with Canon 6D

Sad banana, shot with Canon 6D

Sad bananas over here.

Just one of those weeks! I’m thinking that some photo walks are in order. Would anyone like to join me?

Creativity is always the best way for me to find my joy again. Perhaps you need to find some joy too. Let’s do it together.

The Treasure Hunt begins May 1st.

30 days of photo prompts + photo tips. Here are a few more details.

Only $39 if you use this coupon code: HUNTFORJOY

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Here’s what you’ll get:

  • A creative photo prompt each day in your inbox
  • Photo tips + creative musings to inspire your work
  • A warm, encouraging community space on Flickr to share your work and support your fellow treasure seekers! (I will be popping in there each day to view your work and support your practice)

Benefits of treasure seeking:

  • Jumpstart your creativity or add a new spark to your existing practice
  • Come away with a collection of creative images illustrating your life right now
  • A gratitude practice using your camera as a tool + beauty as your lens
  • A whole month of drinking in everyday beauty
  • Inspiring photos taken with your camera phone.
  • Has your blog been collecting dust? Infuse it with new colorful content!

Only $39 if you use this coupon code: HUNTFORJOY

 

 

These days, when I’m feeling low, those gratitude lists are saving my ass.

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It’s been a doozy of a week. Personal trials over here as well as really hard stuff going on in the world. (Sending you love, Boston) These are the moments when I feel the least amount of inspiration to share a gratitude list. Thank goodness for my gratitude buddy and for this blog where I can remember how very blessed I am.

This is my gratitude list in pictures.

Feel free to leave your own list in the comments. Or, if you haven’t been matched up with a buddy, shoot me an email and I can make that happen for you! (superherosf@gmail.com) I am thoroughly enjoying this public service. ;)

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Celebrating Auntie Brig’s birthday with the boys. So grateful for dear friends.

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Good graffiti that lifts your spirits. Oh, and red boots that photograph well.

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The love between these boys. The love I have for these boys.

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Don’t you love the Trader Joe’s stickers in the hair?

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The perfect fortune that gets you through a hard time.

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Nico Boon. What else is there to say?

 

The crime of outshining

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One of my biggest, most formative wounds happened when I was in the sixth grade. I was part of a triad of friends, three besties that played together every recess, went home together after school and told each other every last secret.

Until one day when everything changed.

I arrived at school to find these friends had gone cold. When I asked what was wrong, they simply declared that they weren’t friends with me anymore. That was it. No warning, no fight that preceded it. Just a simple fact: You’re out.

I was bereft and grieved hard. I wondered what I did wrong. I wondered what was wrong with me. I wracked my brain trying to figure it out.

A few days later, they started calling me names – saying I looked like a monkey, mocking me for wearing designer jeans. It was an incredibly painful time and it wounded me deeply.

But here’s the thing – the damage to our spirit always lives in the story we tell ourselves.

Shit happens. People behave badly. They bully, they call each other names, they act unskillfully. People do what they do. What we decide about ourselves in those moments is what matters most.

I could have decided a lot of things that day – that it wasn’t safe to make friends, that I was a terrible person, that I was ugly.

What I gathered instead was that they were envious — that the boys gave me attention, that my mother bought me nice clothes, that I got good grades. The message I got was clear- Don’t be too much. Don’t be too smart or too pretty or too sparkly. Keep your head low and people won’t hate you. Don’t outshine your friends or you won’t have any.

That story has haunted me. And crept its way into every aspect of my life. There is a ceiling on how much success I allow myself to have or how much I allow myself to enjoy my success. If I do achieve a big win, I find myself talking about how hard it was, or how it took a lot of work and struggle. I want people to know it didn’t come easily, that I suffered. I’m often afraid others will feel diminished by my success.

Years ago, at a women’s creativity group, we did an exercise where we had to go around the circle and “brag” about our creative successes to date. I was terrified… and had a FULL ON breakdown during my turn. I sobbed and couldn’t even get the words out. They had to skip me. Hello emotional landmine!

I can see now that I have been trying to heal this wound for so many years.

Part of my healing process has been to surround myself with circles of women who want me to be big, who want me to shine, who want me to be the best version of me. They want this because it inspires them, it lifts them up, it gives them permission to be big as well. They want this because they know that keeping me tethered keeps them tethered too.

Sometimes we have to do a big re-wiring job on our brains. We have to first notice those limiting beliefs- the ones that hold us back from being our true selves, our deepest selves, our shiniest selves. And then we have to say, No more! That belief no longer serves me. It no longer keeps me safe, it actually keeps me down.

And then we write a new story.

Mine is this: The more I shine, the more others shine in my presence. The more success I have, the more I inspire others.

Does anyone else relate to the crime of outshining? Do you have a new story you need to write?