Happy 2015! Simple is My Word for January

NOTE: Here is a post I wrote for New Year's Day but never posted.  As most of you know my life has been a bit crazy the past few months and my writing has taken a backseat to the needs of the people around me. When I read this I knew that I still had to post it because it is more true now, than then.  Just by writing this I moved into a new space of letting go and downsizing, plus setting boundaries with people in my life.  It is quite amazing how the focus on a "simple" word can make so much difference.  More on that to come, but meanwhile, here are my thoughts on the New Year and how my shift to make my life more simple began.

Simple. Simplify. Simplicity

“As you simplify your life, the laws of the universe will be simpler; solitude will not be solitude, poverty will not be poverty, nor weakness weakness.”  ~ Henry David Thoreau

Happy New Year!!

Last night, well before midnight, as I was reflecting on 2014 I realized there was something I had to face.  My life needed to be simplified.  2014 had been a year of complexity, crisis and life changing events.  What I (we) needed more than anything was to break it down into manageable chunks and let go of the unnecessary.  And there is a lot of unnecessary in my life.  Most of it created by ME!

The words that kept coming to me were. . . 

Keep it Simple.  

Somehow my life had gotten overly complicated.  I have moved into the stage of life of having to parent my parents and at the same time helping my husband with his recovery from a traumatic brain injury. It has all been a little overwhelming and I haven’t had much time to get my head around all the changes.  The days since Jeff’s crash have been a blur of doctor’s visits, healing routines, researching TBI’s and adapting to all the changes in his behavior and personality. During the same time assisting my parents with the difficult discussion of moving into an assisted living facility and helping them make the move and all that entails.  Meanwhile, all the projects I was working on have been put on the back burner, and are now piling up and I have this sense of dread that they are all going to come crashing down any minute. Not to mention piles of hospital bills, claim forms and needing to deal with my parents home and a lifetime of their possessions.  EKKKK!

Simplicity is calling to me.  No, actually simplicity is screaming at me!!  I surrender!  My word for 2015 is simply, simple.  In all it’s forms. Simple, simplify, simplicity.  It is clear as anything can be at this point in my life.

However, going “simple” is not as easy as it seems because I am a person who likes to complicate everything!  It is a gift I have.  The opposite of Keep It Simple. Some how I can make almost any situation more complicated. I have four emails, six websites, four blogs.  I pile things up in “To Do Later” piles.  If something should take four steps, I manage to make to eight or ten.  I also have an avoidance issues.  It is amazing the amount of busy work I can do when avoiding doing what really needs to be done. (Right now I sat down to pay the bills and deal with the pile of hospital and medical bills from Jeff’s crash and I am writing this blog post instead!) You see what I mean! Simple is not something I do well.  But I need to and soon! Like today.  January 1, 2015 the beginning of embracing something big - SIMPLE!

As I take time to reflect on what I need to do to start this new year in a simple way I look around my office and see piles of projects in varied degrees of completion, ideas researched with bulging files, books waiting to be read, or one’s half completed. Months ago  these seemed so important, yet today I can hardly recall their significance. I realize that simplicity is the act of letting go.  Letting go, releasing from ego driven needs and societal based expectations. At this moment simplicity means clearing away that which isn’t truly necessary and holding on to what really has meaning.  That is a monumental task that requires my full attention. Not my full attention as the busy, driven, insecure person I was, but attention as the mindful, spiritually connected person I am striving to be on a more regular basis. When I approach this idea of living simply from that place I have an understanding and a vision that feels comforting and true.

What would happen if I cleared away everything and spent the first month of the new year just meditating, journaling and focused on the word simple.  And, what if, I approached every situation with simplicity as my goal. I wonder how that would change things.  Would it help me get more clear on what I really value and what I truly need to feel content and whole. Busyness and chaos has reined supreme in my life for so long that I can’t even imagine.  The dismantling of that old system was thrust upon me in what looked like a series of crisis situations, but now I am beginning to see them as gifts. When the bullshit of life is stripped away and we are forced to focus on the basics of what is really important, you get a new perspective.  I think I like it.

So, that’s where I am starting.  No list of resolutions, intentions or goals for the year - yet. Just one thing to begin, something SIMPLE.  I’ll let you know how it goes.

Love, Zia

Life Can Change in A Moment

It's been while since I've written.  Life has been pretty hectic.

On Labor Day morning I was sitting in my favorite chair listening to a beautiful guided meditation.  I had decided to start the week off being more present and mindful.  I was totally relaxed and into the mediation when suddenly the phone rang.  I ignored it, determined to not let anything get in the way of this quiet time I had set aside.  Who ever it was I would call back later. A minute later it rang again.  I ignored it again. Distracted, but still determined I brought my attention back to the mediation. Then my cell phone rang. Ugh!  That was it.  I got up, stopped the mediation and looked at the phone, two missed calls from Jeff.  My heart sank.  He was out riding his bike with his buddies and he wouldn't be calling unless something was wrong.  I quickly listened to the voicemail.  A voice I didn't recognize began to speak, "This is the San Bernardino County Fire Department we are trying to reach the wife of Jeff Cochran.  Please call back as soon as possible." My stomach did a flip, my heart started pounding as adrenaline quickly started flooding my body. I pushed the call back button on my phone.  The paramedic answered on the first ring.

Jeff had crashed, was knocked unconscious and was being taken to the ER in Apple Valley.  Soon after he was airlifted to the brain trauma center in Colton with a concussion, bleeding on the brain, a broken jaw and a variety of cuts and contusions.

It's been nearly two weeks since that call.  It was a scary few days and in a second life as we had known it changed. Thankfully he is home now and recuperating very well.  His broken jaw is healing, the cuts and contusions are fading away, and his brain is recovering.  He has memory and balance issues but it seems to be getting better everyday. We are learning more about brain injuries than we ever thought we would. It may be a while until he is back to his old self, but we are hoping for a complete recovery.  Time will tell.  But, he is tough and has made amazing progress in a very short time.

Two things I have learned in the last 14 days.  One, that our bodies are powerful beyond our understanding and know how to heal!  We just have to give them the support they need.  Jeff is a very healthy guy and both of us believe in his innate ability to heal - which we are witnessing everyday. He hasn't taken one pharmasutical since leaving the hospital.  Two, that life is fragile and sacred.  There are lots of things to get wrapped up in, lost in the mundane, meaningless trivia of life and forget what really matters. In a few moments we were reminded of what really matters and since Jeff's crash we have both found a new perspective on life and what we value.

It could have been so much worse.  We are both very grateful for the quick response of his riding buddies, the paramedics, doctors, nurses, and all the prayers and healing energy sent to him via our friends, family and beyond.  We are both uplifted!

Love,

Zia

Choices • Shoes • Nail Polish

"Every choice you make has an end result."  ~ Zig Ziglar

This morning I went to the service at the Center for Spiritual Living in Apple Valley.  It was a spur of the moment decision.  I was sitting home watching the service at Agape International Spiritual Center live streamed on the internet and it suddenly occurred to me that I could go be part of an actual, live spiritual community just a few miles from my house.  So I quickly got dressed and headed out. I arrived with time to spare.

The topic was "Choices".  The speaker used shoes as an analogy for choices and how we feel differently when we wear different shoes.  This image helped make her point well.  As she spoke I started imagining how I feel when I wear different shoes, how my attitude changes accordingly. Flip flops, versus hiking boots, versus dress-up heels.  I could feel it.

As my mind wandered, I glanced down at my hands, and my newly painted fingernails.  I'd given myself a manicure the day before because I was going to a party and I wanted to feel my best.  It had been years since I had painted my nails.  Really!  As I looked at them I thought about how it had changed me.  At the party I felt good, I had dressed up, wore a new dress, fixed my hair, put on make-up and painted my nails.  At the party, whenever I looked at my hands and shiny red nails I felt more confident and happy.  They looked pretty, I felt good. Just looking at them changed me.

This memory made me connect with the talk, just like changing shoes, painting my nails was a choice I had made and it changed my attitude and effected the evening and even how I felt about myself.  A simple thing, a simple choice. But it changed my experience. Shoes and nail polish may seem superficial, but the point she made was clear.

It was in that moment that it occurred to me, choice was mine every minute of the day. That's what she was trying to tell us, that just like changing our shoes or painting my nails, the choices I make can set the tone for my life, and how I experience every moment.  It's up to me.  It is amazing power.  A power we forget that we possess at times.

Thankfully today I was called to the service and I heard exactly what I needed to hear.  I was reminded of the power of choice.  It knocked me out of the passive, victim mentality I'd been stuck in for the past few weeks and shook me up.  Just what I needed - a new perspective. Everything I had been living with lately was all my choice.  Each and every day I was making choices that created my experience.  If I had the power to make myself so miserable, I certainly had the power to make myself happy.  It was about being conscious and deliberate. In each moment I have choice.  I can wear a pair of fun sandals that make me feel light, happy and put a bounce in my step, or I can put on a pair of mud encrusted high-top boots that pull me down into the muck.  It's up to me. Simple as that.

So glad I made the choice to go today.

Big love,

Facebook Reminds Me of High School

How many "Likes" did I get today?

I was laying in bed this morning checking Facebook, as I do nearly every morning.  I lay there and scrolled down the posts. Checking in with my Facebook family of friends, real family, acquaintances and random people I have met in various places. There are the quotes with lovely pictures, the cute animals, the adorable children and grandchildren, amazing vacation photos, political rants, commentaries on the latest news and, of course, the ain't my life wonderful posts from people you just don't believe have that wonderful of a life.  Those are the ones who get me.  And what even gets me more is when they have 85 likes and 30 comments!  What the hell?

Today it reminded me of high school.  Sitting back wishing I was one of the popular kids, but knowing that I wasn't.  Thinking of a way I could write a clever post or do something interesting so that I could be like the them.  So I could get 85 likes and 30 comments.  It made me laugh out loud.

A few weeks ago I made the decision to step back from social media a bit and even blogging so that I could get some perspective.  I was feeling pressured and a bit envious of other people who seemed to have a following that I didn't.  I began to judge myself and question my motives for even participating in the "game".  Why was I doing this?  And, why did I care so much?

After some time away and introspection I've figured out a few things.

Facebook triggers some old insecurity issues from my childhood.  Seriously. It does remind me of high school and that feeling of not being enough. But, I see that reminder as an opportunity.  What I didn't know then, and I do know now is that I am enough.  Life isn't a popularity contest and Facebook isn't the measure.  It's social media - take it for what it's worth and enjoy the process.

Some of the people I have been judging myself against are people I don't even like that much. I realized that there are several people on Facebook that I have friended out of curiosity or a perverse need to make myself feel bad.  I also realized that I could unfriend them and stop torturing myself.

Lastly, I thought about my blogging.  First and foremost, I like to write.  Simple as that.  I have been writing since I was a little girl and I love to write.  Actually, I need to write.  I now understand that I write for myself and putting it out there into the world via the internet is just part of the process. Yes, I want people to read my posts and feel something, but honestly, I just want to write. As I laid in bed this morning scrolling down the Facebook feed, feeling the feelings I described above, I knew I had to write about it.  I got up, made some coffee and sat down at the computer.  Here I am.  That's what I like doing.

It's not about popularity or how many likes I get.  It's something that I want to do, need to do.  I certainly don't understand it, but I feel it.  Crazy as it seems sharing my feelings and my life with the world (large or small) compels me and I just can't stay away from it. Somehow I have found peace with that and will continue to write.

Lastly, I realize that it is selfish. If I was interested in being popular I would be writing about what other people want, or what I perceive other people might want.  However, that is not what motivates me.  My writing is a selfish pursuit, I write about what I find interesting and what intrigues me at the moment. It is something that no one else can control, it is mine and mine alone.  I like that.  If you like it that's great, but I also know that if you don't, that's okay too!

So here I am, back to my blog, speaking my truth.  Yes, this is me, and it will continue that way.  If you feel compelled to comment on this post, go for it.  If not, c'est la vie. When I post on Facebook feel free to like my post, or not.  Now that I know my truth, it no longer matters what comes from "out there" towards me.  This is an inside job that for some weird reason I send out to the world.  Who knows why.  And really, who cares?

That's it for now!

What I Learned at the Writers Conference • Reflections

Four Days of Immersion  

It's over.  The last talk at the PNWA Writers Conference was given by Robert Dugoni, New York Times Best Selling author and a really funny, charming and inspirational guy! His talk was the perfect end to an amazing four days.

I'm sitting at a coffee shop with a iced Americana gathering my thoughts and reflecting on what I am taking away from the conference.  There is so much to sift through, but here are some of the highlights.

Waiting in line to pitch my book to an agent

I pitched my book, Becoming Zia, to four agents.  It was scary and exciting.  I practiced my pitch in the pitch practice room and at the Power Pitch Workshop so I thought I was ready.  When I sat down with the first agent I totally blew it.  She was less than impressed and basically told me to come back when I had a real pitch. Ouch! Honestly I wanted to leave the room and bail on the entire thing, but I pulled it together and decided to just be myself.  I got in line for the next agent and when my turn came I sat down and just told her about my book in my own words.  It was a completely different experience!  She was wonderful,  she liked me and my book idea. She gave me her card and asked me to send her the entire manuscript. Wow, what a rush!  I pitched four times, two agents wanted the full manuscript, and one wanted a full query letter and the first ten pages.  For my first time I am feeling quite successful! Plus the experience was priceless!  

The Memoir: Your Life, Your Story workshop with Bill Kenower was transforming.  I liked him the minute he started talking and I resonated with everything he said.  He really helped me see writing my book in a new light and the motivation behind it all.  He said one thing that put it all into perspective for me and I will use from this point forward. "Memoir is using you life to create a work of art to share what you have learned or come to understand. Writing is art! Writing is a feeling experience not a writing experience."  I just love that!  

Cherie Tucker is a grammar expert, who should be a comedian. Her workshop on How to Clean up Your Manuscript was so entertaining. She took a very dry and usually boring topic and with the help of her trusty overhead projector, turned it into a unique leaning experience.  The most important thing I learned was the rule about affect and effect.  These two words have always driven me to distraction.  The rule: affect = action, effect = results. Simple. How come I never learned this before now?  

In the Authorship as A Business workshop I finally got how to put all my interests together  in one place and use them to build a platform.  I am a multifaceted person and all of theses parts may look separate but they are each part of the whole - me! How I connect with people, what topic is important, but ultimately they are still connecting with me. All aspects of me, all my interests and pursuits. My silly black and white thinking brain always compartmentalizes everything. Thanks to this workshop I can now see the bigger picture and it shifted everything.  

The greatest part of the weekend was meeting and connecting with other writers. I  met so many interesting people and heard lots of amazing stories. I've made some lasting connections. It was enriching on a level I never expected. There is nothing like being immersed in something you love with a bunch of other people who love it too. Invigorating and inspiring.  I'm so glad I came.

Today I have a better understanding of the publishing industry and how I see myself fitting in as a writer. I learned about the process, the culture and the people. I learned about grammar,  story arcs, narrative, character development, building a scene, and structure. All of which I'm sure will make me a better writer. Plus there is much more to uncover when I read through my notes.

In four short days I have grown leaps and bounds as a writer.  I have a new outlook on my life and my future. I am deeply grateful for the experience. 

Big love,

Zia

The Rebel Rises • Writers Conference Day 3

My rebel archetype decided to make an appearance.

There is this rebel inside of me that shows up at the most unexpected moments.  She showed up today  while I was sitting in a workshop called "The First Page" at the Pacific Northwest Writers Association Writers Conference. A panel of agents sat at the front of the room.  A moderator stood with a microphone.  The moderator read random book first pages submitted by attendees in every genre. As soon as one of the agents heard something they didn't like they raised their hand.  Then critiquing began.  It was somewhere around the fifth or sixth "first page" read that my rebel started to show up.  Thoughts keep popping my head like:

"Who are these agents?"

"What ego's they have!"

"Who says they're right?"

"What . . . ?? She's totally off base!"

"This is just another example of other people judging art based on their own subjective life view and culmination of experiences."

"These people are just a cog in the machine - the corporate publishing machine."

"Fuck this!"

"The last thing I want to be is part of a corporate creativity and self-esteem killing machine that capitalizes on judging and marginalizing writers based on their own set of self imposed standards, protocols and greed.  

Oops, that rebel of mine is such a pain in the ass.  I wanted desperately to get up and leave, but I stayed.  The sane, reasonable part of me remained seated, the rebel part, on the other hand, had my mind and was running with the anti-publishing establishment crusade full-speed ahead.

That rebel, she's caused me lots of trouble over the course of my life  But this time I felt I owed her a little consideration. After the workshop I found myself a quiet place and contemplated all the information that she brought forward for me.  It took some mulling over, but a picture was starting to become clear.

Accept was is.  That's what came to me.  I have found myself in a world that was intentionally created to expose writers to the publishing world and all that represents.  It is a wonderful microcosm of the world of publishing and all it's conflicting facets.  There are the two paradigms that are facing off - traditional publishing and its long history and set of standards, and the new world of technology allowing anyone to self publish.  The clash between the old and new is obvious, yet subversive.  The old traditional way is about the path to the holy grail and finding the magic keys held by the important gatekeepers- the agents and editors.  The new self-publishing technology is available to anyone who is brave enough to conquer  the seemingly intimidating technology or is confident enough to own the title "self-published" without feeling like a loser in the "real" publishing game.  It's sort of a weird little world.

The first two days I walked around in wide-eyed amazement of this world.  As usual, I was trying to figure out how I fit into it.  And, as usual, I was having a hard time finding my place.  I still am.  Thanks to my rebel, I have decided to look at this as a intelligence and reconnaissance mission. 

Ultimately I must connect with my truth and what I am doing here in the first place.  I've written a memoir baring my soul and exposing my process of discovery and awakening and I want to share that with other people.  Why?  Because I think the message is universal and is something important to share.  Do I need an agent or editor to love it or approve of it?  I don't think so.  Do I want it out there in the world?  Yes!  So, I guess I have to figure out how I want to go about doing that.  That's why I am happy to be here.

Now my rebel, she is still feeling uneasy and cautious.  But, all she really wanted was to get my attention, and she did.

Time will tell how it all unfolds . . .

Zia

Fear, Excitement and Vulnerability • PNWA Writers Conference Day 1

Being a newbie comes along with a little anxiety.

Here I am, at my first writers conference.  The biggest hurdle was getting over thinking and calling myself a writer.  I got over that one a few months ago.  Now showing up at this conference, entering my book in the literary contest, and presenting myself as an author all seems a bit surreal, but honestly very exciting.

Being new at something, and not knowing what to expect always feels a bit scary.  I even had a hard time sleeping last night.  But once I was here my nerves settled down bit.  They even settled down more when I saw other people wandering around looking lost and confused.  The first person I talked to was a first timer as well and we managed to get lost together, creating a instant bond.

Registration was easy and well organized.  Figuring out how to attach the cord to my name tag was the biggest challenged I've faced so far.  It's two hours in and I still can't get the thing to stay together! There must be a trick to it.  If that's as hard as it gets, I'm doing great!

However, I know it's going to get harder. Part of this experience is pitching my book to agents and editors.  I am signed up for two different "pitch blocks." One on Friday afternoon, and the other Saturday morning.  I'll have three minutes to tell them about my book and answer any questions they may have.  The idea of it is part terrifying, part exciting.  What a fantastic opportunity to talk about my book, pitch to people who could actually get my book published, and gain confidence.  Yes, a mix of terror and exhilaration. Thankfully tonight there's a practice pitch session.  I'll be there pushing myself to tell my story to anyone who will listen.  Quite a big heap for a closet introvert with a social anxiety disorder!  Wish me luck!

When I think about this experience Brene Brown's TED Talk keeps coming to mind.  It's about vulnerability being our greatest fear.  That's what I am feeling.  My book Becoming Zia is a story of my life, well, at least two weeks of it and all the baggage that I accumulated until then.  It's open, raw, and very personal.  Pitching that to someone who can determine wether it has value or not is teetering  on the far edge of vulnerable. But what the hell.  I survived the experience in New Mexico and came through it with a new sense of who I am.  I've embraced an entirely new identity, and found my voice.  This should be a piece of cake.

Yum, cake.  That sounds good.  Turning to food under stress used to be how Cindy dealt with everything.  No more. You know, I think I'll go for a walk instead.  Or, even better, go introduce myself to someone and tell them about my book.

Big Love,

Zia