Pain, Progress & Self Improvement

If you're alive, you are familiar with pain. You've met him once or twice along your life path. We've all endured his uninvited appearances and undoubtedly there are more to come.

Today I'm dealing with physical pain, but that little invisible guy comes in many forms. Personally, I'm partial to his physical form as I have a high pain threshold. Right now I have several stitches in my lower eyelid, and a bottle full of Vicodin that I haven't touched. The skin cancer is gone, my eye is swollen and black and blue, but there's also a great deal of gratitude that it was not worse, so I'll graciously accept the pain that accompanies the cure. Read the back story at http://noarose.blogspot.com/2008/01/skin-cancer-sun-and-me.html I have but one question for my surgeon: Did he have to use black thread on this very fair skinned blonde?

Aside from the fact that it looks like I have a second row of eyelashes sprouting from my lower lid, I'm dealing with the vanity pain fairly well. I even met with clients today and showed off the doctor's handiwork to my coworkers. That's progress for me. In the past I would have stayed out of the limelight of life until the stitches were removed and Bobbie Brown concealer makeup
thickly in place to mask the bruises. Today, I left the house with lipstick, a touch of blush and antibacterial ointment glistening. It felt powerful not to hide my little victory over the big C.

In order to progress we must endure the discomfort of pain. Pain brings us into the world and accompanies us as we grow physically, emotionally and spiritually. It may never be your friend, but it most definitely is your teacher.

As children we suffer the scrapes and bruises that come with learning to walk, ride a bike or play a contact sport. As adults we often "fall down" when pursuing the big endeavors in our lives. The new job doesn't live up to our expectations, the love match turns out to be a mismatch or worse yet an unexpected tragedy whisks someone we love away from us.

When you are in the midst of it pain can blur your vision and dim your hope, but the outgrowth of pain is progress. The baby learns to walk and enjoy new found mobility, the bruises are soon forgotten. The training wheels come off the bike and the rider's world and self confidence are both larger. The love that didn't last prepares you for the one that will.

Everything happens for a reason, but the why can be hidden deep in the folds of the masks we wear to protect us from the harshness of this world. The life lesson is in recognizing the answer is not in the event, but within you. The event is only the catalyst that sparks the life leap awaiting you.

Get the Band-Aids ready, you're about to stretch and grow--ready or not.

How to Have a Great Year

When you raise a glass to toast the passing of 2008 will your memory be flooded with times and events that make you smile and say it was worthwhile, or will it go down in your history book as just another year in the life of me? I know, it's only January, but what better time to concoct a plan, chase a dream or pursue a passion?

I've seen a few New Years come and go. Most are not as memorable as I would like. Sure, there were the big years of off to college, births, and other high points of life. A few were laced with the inevitable tragedies that spot our lives with sadness, and other years, I regret to say, came and passed in an uneventful manner. That's sad, don't you think?

A few years ago I made a conscious decision to stop living a terminally ill robotic life. Perhaps because I spent too many years in a marriage that was a lot of work, but never really worked. I finally grew tired of banging my head on the cold brick wall in front of me and found a way to peek over the top. Yikes, it can be scary to step outside the safety of your own backyard. But how the heck can life be an adventure if you don't?

My new rules for enjoying life include planning a vacation and actually taking it. No more missing life because work is more important. It isn't. A vacation is a break from your usual routine, a respite from the daily demands. It doesn't have to be exotic to be effective. Visit an old friend, take a weekend road trip, check in at a local hotel and spend the weekend as a tourist in your own town. You're sure to have an adventure, make a memory and return to work with an attitude enhancement.

Perform random acts of kindness. This one is so easy and is highly appreciated by the recipients. A few weeks ago I let a man go ahead of me in the express check-out line. He had one item I was close to the limit of fifteen. It was a small gesture, but the man thanked me three times and said it was the first time anyone had ever done that for him. He had a better day because of me. I hope he will gift another stranger with an act of kindness in the future. His enthusiasm and genuine gratitude enriched my day. That's how we can make a difference in the world, and isn't that something we all long to do? Kindness is contagious; it's also free.

Improve your little corner of the world. Last year I planted white rose bushes in large pots on my balcony, and I've been rewarded with profuse fragrant blooms since day one. I've snipped more than a few blossoms and spread them throughout the house during the year. I especially love to fall asleep with the scent of roses wafting over me from the nearby bedside table. It lifts my spirits and makes me smile when I awake. Plant a tree, nurture a garden, vow to live a greener life. It's good for the Earth, and Mother Nature offers up some amazing works of art worthy of our awe and appreciation. A little earth on your hands will go straight to your soul.

Adventure, kindness and natural beauty woven into the days of your life will play an important role in making your days more delightful and the upcoming year sweeter to recall when December rolls around.

I don't have to go far to smell the roses. And neither should you.

Sleepless Nights in America

We Americans eat too much and sleep too little. We reach for a pill, or surgery, to lose weight and another pill to fall asleep. We're over stimulated with caffeine and the hassle of commuting in rush hour traffic and working long hours at the office. Oops, that requires another pill to unwind from the demands of the day. Relaxation is a lost art in Los Angeles. Is this how your life is going?

The death of Heath Ledger was tragic and a great loss. He was truly a gifted actor with amazing talent and potential. However, even he was not immune to the need for anti-anxiety medication and sleeping pills at the youthful age of 28. The quick fix is epidemic. A friend of mine recently began taking medication to steady his nerves in the morning, and another pill to help him relax at night. Yet another friend switched from Ambien to Lunesta in his quest for the perfect night's sleep. Will he find it in a pill?

These are trying times for sure. Recession, inflation, war, terrorism, foreclosure and other stressful words fill the pages of the press and spew from the mouths of nightly news broadcasters. Add a dose of personal issues and family demands and it's easy to become overwhelmed. It's little comfort to know difficult times have been with us since the beginning of time, and they will forever remain a part of life's landscape. We have to deal with it.

Early mankind found solace and safety in the dark womb-like cavern of their caves, and today's cocooning and Ipods is modern man's respite from the bombardments of his existence. Our basis needs have changed very little.

It is difficult to distance yourself from the daily fray, and it takes an insidious toll on your mind, body and soul. There is no easy answer, but I've observed the habits of some of my more peaceful and centered friends over the years, and they do things a little bit different than the masses. One dims all the lights in his house immediately after dinner. He swears the low lights begin the process of relaxation and preparation for sleep. Another allows no television in the bedroom. Another opens the windows in the bedroom for ten minutes, no matter what the outside temperature is, and swears the fresh air allows her to sleep like a baby. These are their beliefs, and believing is very powerful. So are rituals and habits.

Establishing your own might work better for you than a prescription drug.

Check out what works for me at http://noarose.blogspot.com/2007/12/where-are-you-sleeping-tonight.html

What's in Your Bucket?

The Bucket List is creating quite a stir in the movie and unfulfilled dreams sectors of society. It focuses on two men meeting in a hospital while being treated for cancer, and deciding that now is the time to do the things they've always wanted to do, but didn't. It's not so much a second chance in life, but rather the last chance. That certainly gives it a sense of urgency, but also a what do we have to lose, we're dying anyway attitude. When fear is removed a joyful sense of freedom to pursue inner longings emerges.

This little life lesson applies to all of us. Life is fragile and finite. It comes and it goes. Live it now. So bring your bucket out of the closet and examine what dreams and desires it holds for you. Once you have your list written, expose yourself. Declare your right to chase a dream or two. Accountability is important and it will often nudge you into taking action.

My bucket list was made several years ago and updated on my last birthday. It was great fun to check a couple of items off the list last year. It was with a great sense of fulfillment that I crossed off visit Italy and see a Broadway play. What a great way to track your personal growth. For my list includes travel, books I want to read, classes I want to take, gardens I want to plant and relationships I want to tend. Plus about sixty other far fetched dreams.

My dreams are my dreams, and yours are yours. Live them.

Moving Through Life

Call me crazy, but I've always enjoyed, actually loved, exercise. As a child I was not a big fan of television. I detested Saturday morning cartoons. Sitting and watching movement on a box was way too passive for me. During those childhood summers my hands were calloused from bike riding and I spent hours mastering the art of hula hooping. Winters were made for sledding after school and making snowmen, snow angels and trails in the snow.

Games were great too, not the sitting kind either. Softball, Dodge ball, Red Rover and so many others. I lived for the chase, the challenge, the win. My body craved movement. It still does.

Aerobic was the buzz word in the exercise world when I was in high school, and I loved it. We performed a few simple choreographed routines to music, and after the first session I was hooked. I've sought out more than one dance/aerobic class thoughout the ensuing years and still enjoy the natural high I achieve through music and movement. It's addicting, in a good way, and it feels good too.


The movements chosen during my adult years include yoga, which is wonderful for flexibility, balance and centering. It is also the best stress reliever I've found and it's my spiritual home.


Tennis was a social and competitive outlet for me when my children were small and I was housebound. A couple of hours spent chasing and connecting with that little yellow ball made me a better mother. After meeting my needs, I was free to meet theirs with my full attention and love. Neglecting your soul serves no one well.


I had a few physical flings that did not last long, but I don't regret a moment of the time I spent with ballet, swing dancing, jogging and a host of other short lived exercise affairs.


I saved my most rewarding love for last. Walking. It doesn't matter where. Urban walks are stimulating, country lanes are relaxing, beach walks are rejuvenating and mountain hikes are exhilarating. Sometimes I carry small hand weights for an upper body workout, other times I climb a big hill to give my abs an extra challenge. Most of the time I just walk. It's the movement that matters.


And the Tango still waits to be mastered.

Defining Your Calling

Some days those little voices in your head, or could it be your heart, make their presence known by rumbling a bit louder than usual. Perhaps in the past you were able to suppress them by busying yourself with safer and more acceptable activities than listening to your heart's desire. For most of us, that's uncharted territory, and we prefer a road map with life expectations clearly marked. Detours into the unknown annoy us at best, and frankly scares the begeezes out of us most of the time.

I don't know about you, but I am in awe of individuals who take the road less traveled and never look back. They answer their calling; but I've always wondered how they knew it was their calling and not just some fleeting idea. I've had plenty of those and it's probably best I didn't act on too many of them.

I remember the first time I heard someone speak of "their calling." I was a little girl, eight or nine years old, and the new minister of my church was blind. That first Sunday he walked in carrying a huge Braille Bible and confidently followed his German Shepherd seeing eye dog down the aisle and up to the pulpit. I don't remember much about that first sermon other than he spoke of his calling. I was too fascinated with his dog and reading with his fingertips to concentrate on the message of the morning.

The calling part of the sermon stayed with me. I pondered on how he might have received the message from God because that's where he said the message came from. I wondered if the blind minister saw God when he received his calling or did he just hear God. Maybe he just felt God. Or did he simply have a dream and wake up with a clear vision of what he wanted to do with his life? I quizzed my mother about the possibilities and her answer of, "Preachers always say that," quieted me, but did not quench my need to explore the concept of callings.

A calling can be quite common, but no less compelling than the loftier ones that make headline news and history books. Sometimes it comes in the middle of a life storm and other times it's a light tap on the shoulder. Sometimes it appears in your youth, other times it remains in the shadows until you are ready to shine your light on it. Sometimes it reveals itself as an ordinary job you choose to make extraordinary by the way you do it.

"If a man is called to be a street sweeper, he should sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven played music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. He should sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well." -- Martin Luther King, Jr

The Healthy Home

McMansions are mushrooming up throughout the hills of the coastal community I live and work in. As I walk through the limestone laden hallways and cavernous bedroom suites I can't help but wonder what it is in our human nature that compels us to build 10,000 square foot homes for a family of four. Mother Nature can't be happy with this turn of events!

I understand the nesting urge. I raised four little "birdies" myself in homes from Maine to Florida and across the country to California. Some of those homes were healthier than others. The older homes had mold and moisture issues. The new homes had paint, varnish and new carpet odors to deal with. As the mother of children with asthma these were ongoing challenges.

When I moved to California nearly twenty years ago my first priority was to find the cleanest air available in a city notorious for its smog. The style and size of the house were secondary concerns. However, even then there was an emerging trend that bigger was better. This obsession with the obese house is outpacing the expanding waistline of Americans. How much longer can Earth sustain this never ending appetite of conspicuous consumption?

Perhaps it is because many home buyers today are of a younger generation, but I've noticed a tilt toward greener desires. Quality over quantity seems to be rearing its logical head. Perhaps this new wave of real estate seekers will redefine the meaning of home in America.

Enter Living Homes--Nature made. Factory built. These modern homes are designed by world class architects and offer great price values. The homes are made with natural non-toxic (cork floors and cedar ceilings) and sustainably-derived materials. These healthier homes have dramatically smaller ecological footprints than most new homes. Living Homes combine healthy materials and efficient systems with a resource-saving modular fabrication process which contributes to cleaner air, water and soil. Kudos to this company for giving consumers a greener housing choice.

I'm intrigued, although I have not yet seen one of their designs except online. I look forward to watching these more ecologically friendly homes sprout up throughout the local landscape and squash the multiplication of the McMansion frenzy.

Check out LivingHomes at http://www.livinghomes.net/welcome.html

They really are quite lovely, don't you think?

Plastic Lives Forever

Dress designed by Cathy Kasdan and made from plastic grocery bags. Now that's a legacy that will live on for generations to come!
I've seen it before and it never fails to break my heart. This time it was a pelican with what appeared to be a plastic grocery bag twisted around his foot. He was resting on a rock exposed by the low tide, and from the stillness of his body it appeared he was resigned to his fate.



It's shocking the amount of plastic that washes ashore after a storm. Plastic bottles, cups, and bags litter the beaches and coastlines. Many cities and countries are banning the use of plastic grocery bags. Other locations around the world are employing a phase-out program. Still others are charging a fee per bag for plastic. California is considering a 15 cents per bag fee.



Want to know what you can do for the environment and to live a greener life? Request paper bags the next time you're at the market, or better still, bring your own cloth ones. Really, it's the cool thing to do. It's chic to want to reduce your carbon footprint, and after reviewing the stats below I think you will agree plastic bags have got to go!



I bought my first cloth grocery bag back in the 1970s. It was an open mesh bag that I used at farmer's market and highway produce stands. I now carry a dozen cloth bags in the trunk of my car. I have to admit I still walk out of a store now and then with a plastic bag, but the guilt is growing and I feel even more guilty when I throw those bags in the dumpster.



I recently read of a hedgehog (dead) found with a plastic yogurt cup stuck on its head. Please, if you must use plastic, dispose of it properly. Remember, it will live on long after you are gone.



Plastic Bag Facts:


• The US uses 100 billion plastic shopping bags annually, according to The Wall Street Journal.
• An estimated 12 million barrels of oil is required to make that many bags.
• 4 of 5 grocery bags in the US are now plastic.
• Plastic bags are among the 12 items of debris most often found in coastal cleanups, according to the Center for Marine Conservation.
• Plastic bags take up to 1,000 years to degrade in a landfill.
Source: Reusablebags.com (a website which sells reusable shopping bags and advocates against plastic bag use). http://reusablebags.com/

Making the Big Decisions

For the past few days I've been dealing with a client who is struggling with moving her life to the next level. With all due respect, the world has thrown her more than one curve ball and she decided to take a long time-out. But now she can't get off the bench. It feels good to be safely shielded from the hot spots of life and the glaring demands it makes. She's sitting and watching, and too fearful of a long list of "what ifs" to venture back into the game.

She has hit the wall. She has had enough. She's retreated and literally crawled into bed. She's a woman alone who is filled with desire but held back by fear. Life is coming at her way too fast for comfort. Divorce, children leaving the nest, new job and new residence all occurred during the past two years. Now she needs to move from her temporary rental and purchase a condo. She's fighting this on every level, because she is not ready to accept the singularity of her new life. She's stuck in denial.

It is difficult to move to the next level if you are lugging all the baggage from your past. Lighten the load, purge the system and the ascent will be easier. The children no longer need their own rooms when they come home from college. The over-sized dining room set from the house in the suburbs needs to stay in the burbs. Some things must be left behind.

The loan is approved, the condo is identified, but she can't bring herself to sign the contract. So tomorrow we will look at more condos and postpone the decision once again. She wants to make sure the one she has chosen is the right one. But do we ever know for sure it, whatever your it may be, is the right one? I don't think so.

Years ago I had a similar conversation with a street smart friend, except that time I was the one hovering in an indecisive state. I was weighing the pros and cons of a major life change. Each side of the balance sheet was weighted with credible justification to choose that particular path. My friend listened and watched as I circled around the decision for days. Finally, one evening when the topic came up for the umpteenth time he cut me off with a comment I shall remember as long as I live. With a chuckle, to soften the finality of his words I suspect, he said, "Sometimes you just have to drop your pants and slide on the ice."

Marriage After 60

My friends are planning weddings. That's not an uncommon thing for women to do, but these ladies are a bit older--late fifties and sixties. Most of them have been career women since the end of their first marriage (or two), others are clearly serial monogamists--they are not happy unless they are one half of a whole. A few are childless late bloomers who missed out on the motherhood phase of life, and are ready to play grandmother to step-grandchildren.

Their reasons for marrying late in life are as varied as they are. Travel, dining and theatre are conducive to couples. One woman is marrying to green up her life. No, not his money, but a shared domicile means cutting back on their respective carbon footprints. One heating bill is better than two!

There is an undeniable sense of urgency to get on with what's left of life. The desire to be in love one more time, to experience new adventures and to have someone to come home to each evening. As I listen to them talk, they all speak about the big moments in life: weddings, funerals, births and other life markers, but I think one summed up the importance of sharing our daily life with a significant other with these words, "I don't want to sleep alone anymore."

Retirement, Social Security, pensions, Medicare and health issues are a fact of life and aging. These boomer weddings are not to be taken lightly. They speak to the ability to be hopeful, to have faith and believe love is out there waiting for them even as autumn wraps her colorful arms around this season of their life.

The Wing Clippers

Sometimes moving ahead on our life path means we have to take the plunge and dive into unknown territory, or we'll be stuck with the safety of dry land forever. Terra firma feels good underfoot, and it's the path of least resistance. But is it the path of your life purpose, or is it what someone else wants for you (or for them)?


My grandmother often clipped the wings of adventuresome bantams who escaped the chicken yard. The memory of her capturing and clipping the colorful wing feathers is not one I cherish. I always felt sorry for the bird now destined to remain in his designated pen until slaughter day. I often watched as the bantam scurried away upon release from my grandmother's grasp. The escapee would always try to spread his wings and fly again. It didn't happen.


Is there a wing clipper in your life? Do you keep your wings neatly tucked at your side fearing what might happen if you dared to spread them? Could stifled dreams and desires morph into depression, dependency and obesity? It is my unverified opinion that the answer is a resounding yes.


So spread your wings and soar. Start small, a short flight is better than no flight at all. Take a moment to recall dreams of years past. This is sacred soul time; recall times when you were so happy your life was vibrating with happiness and joy. Resurrect just one of them, spread your wings and fly away.

Get On the Bus

There's always room to grow no matter where you are on the path of life. With that in mind I've decided to try something new each day for the next 30 days. It doesn't matter what, it just has to be a new experience for me. A new product, a new store, a new place; you get the idea.

I have always admired people with a sense of adventure, and I like to consider myself in that crowd. I subscribe to the keep learning until you die philosophy. I've found people who do new things are interesting people to spend time with, and I don't ever want anyone to describe me as boring. Please engage me, and I you, or let's disengage and move on.

In my quest for knowledge and self improvement I've studied and practiced yoga, attempted to learn a foreign language or two, took knitting lessons, completed creative writing classes, joined book clubs and a plethora of other endeavors. I am the biggest improvement project I've ever attempted.

Upon completion of each project, no matter how large or how small, I've grown in at least one area of my life. Am I more confident? Probably. Am I more knowledgeable? Without a doubt. Am I living my life on purpose? Hopefully. Isn't that we all hope to do? Improve ourselves and perhaps inspires a few other souls to stretch and grow along with us. Many have proceeded me on this journey and many will follow, but my footprint belongs only to me, it is what I make it and where I take it. As is yours.

For more great articles on self improvement go discover Steve Pavlina's inspirational posts. http://www.stevepavlina.com/blog/

Skin Cancer, the Sun and Me

"Looks like basal skin cancer," my dermatologist spoke casually after peering into my right eye. "We'll do a biopsy, but I'm almost sure that's what it is."

The pesky little growth was on my lower eyelid and very small. I must admit I knew it was there, but it did not bother me in any way. I thought it was a fatty deposit and actually pondered whether that might be justification I needed to have my eyes "done."

One morning while I was drying my face a bit more vigorously than normal, I noticed blood on the towel. The mirror revealed bright blood oozing from the site. Holy Crapola, this thing needed to be checked by a doctor.

The biopsy came back positive and I'll be seeing a plastic surgeon today for a consultation.

My sun history is spotty. I did not spend much time in the sun as a child. It was not fashionable to sport a tan in the 1950s. I have a picture of my sisters and me in large straw hats purchased at the St. Louis Zoo at my mother's insistence to, "Keep the sun off your faces."

As a teenager in the 60s it was very cool, so I went blonde and tan. I logged many an hour in my itsy bitsy teeny weeny little bikini on the sunroof of my college dorm, sans sunglasses (didn't want to look like a raccoon). Those were the days, my friend. We think they'll never end, or so the song goes.

After college came work, then marriage and motherhood. Not much time for sunbathing. Since the mid 80s I've worn a sunscreen nearly every day. I have a collection of hats and always wear one on my morning walk.

The college chronicles are a favorite chapter in my book of life. Looks like I'll get to recall them a bit more frequently than I planned.

Hold the Fairy Dust

On the day she died my mother told me getting old was not so good. Perhaps her answer was not as sassy as Betty Davis' getting old is not for sissies, but it was honest. Don't get me wrong, she was not sitting in the rocking chair waiting for the grim reaper to knock on her door. That Last Day, as I like to call it, included going out to lunch, getting a manicure, and spending the night at a Bed and Breakfast Inn. Except she died shortly after I tucked her in for the night.

I planned an impromptu visit during the holidays. I called my mother two days before I was to arrive. She was thrilled; she was always game for a new adventure. My youngest son, 14 at the time, went with me. I remember watching him hold her arm as they navigated their way across an icy parking lot. I watched from behind. He's growing up and she's growing old.

There's something so magical about the cycle of life. We're often moving so fast we don't stop to observe it. As my son opened the restaurant door and they vanished from sight, I realized they were both moving away from me. But that's the way life is.

Party at My House

There's a fun party happening somewhere tonight. It could have been at my house if I had wanted to be a real meanie.

You see, Dan the dancer called me yesterday and wanted directions to my house. After asking him to repeat the question, and digging a bit deeper for information, I discovered he will be dancing at Doreen's Bachelorette Party tonight. His dialing was one digit off and he apologized for the slip of the finger.

I doubt that Dan's dancing will fall into the classical category. I do imagine the room will be filled with lots of young women urging the bride-to-be to have one more night of rowdy fun before her marriage begins. Matrimony changes things, friendships included.

So girls, have fun and enjoy the moment. Life will soon send you on different paths. Take lots of pictures, you won't get to go back.

Home From the War

Few things can cause a mother more worry than having a child at war. People are trying to kill your offspring, the baby you carried and cared for. There is no peace in the heart of a mother while her child is fighting a war.

Mine is home now. He returned several months ago, and I'm just beginning to see the smiles and hear the laughter of years past. He's coming out of the fog of war, and it thrills me to know he still appreciates beauty after witnessing so much death and destruction.

He took these pictures on a solo camping trip to Northern California. Nature is a wonderful healer. Enjoy, and know these were taken by a young former Marine who found and destroyed IEDs in Iraq on a daily basis. He was one of the lucky ones, he came home whole. Several friends did not.

I find it interesting that the politicians and people who are adamantly against abortion are pro-war. Don't kill babies, but do kill eighteen year old boys. That's a whole new post and one I'll address in the future.

Round 1: Dark Chocolate Wins

I gave him the cold shoulder. I pushed him to the back of my mind and my upright freezer, but I knew he was there. I should never have let him into the house, or at the very least I should have sent him packing with the culprit he walked in with.

Why couldn't I just take one taste and send the remainder swirling down the drain? My history I suppose. I have far too many memories of Mr. Chocolate's delights to toss him out of my life and diet. Making brownies and chocolate cake in my mother's kitchen, fudge-filled Easter eggs from a school girl's first crush. Chocolates lined up in a heart shaped box and proudly presented as the first declaration of love. Ah-ha, now it's clear, my gray matter associates chocolate with love.

Now back to last night's seduction. I was so good all day long. There was oatmeal with soy milk for breakfast, a spinach salad for lunch, steamed veggies and rice with herbal tea for dinner. Then just before bed, while making the final security check of all doors, I found myself standing in the dark of my kitchen with the freezer light shining in my eyes. I want something, I thought to myself as I anxiously gripped the door. I fought the desire to give in to my addiction and eat chocolate cake straight from the box, but quickly took back control as I recalled the importance of portion size in the battle of weight control. I want to lose pounds from my body not the pleasures from my life.

I chose the most beautiful (and smallest) dessert plate in the house, and placed a piece of Chocolate Chocolate Chip Cake the size of my fist (and heart) on the small floral plate. I ate with no guilt as I remembered the most recent studies that proclaim chocolate is filled with rich antioxidants, and a little bit each day is actually good for you. As is love.

For the Times They are a Changing

This morning I had a face to face with myself in the mirror. "Get serious," I said. "This is your life. No more maybes, no more I hopes. " Prince Charming fell off his horse and was trampled by the little piggies as they set out on their own. Hallelujah, this is my time!

I consider the number 8 to be one of my lucky numbers and this is 2008, so it seems appropriate to select 8 absolutely-over the-top-and-they-said-it-couldn't-be-done resolutions for the upcoming year:

1. Lose 20 pounds. Why is weight always number one? Just toning up would be acceptable, losing 10 would be admirable, but 20 would put me into those Levi's I worn back in BC (Before Children). Not to mention what it would do for my overall health. This will not be easy because I am passionate about food--the smell, the texture, the color, the taste. I do not eat to live, I live to eat (really good stuff, not junk).

2. Walk, meditate and pray each morning. There is time for this, but it's so easy to rush forward without preparing for the day ahead. The price is a frenetic pace and frazzled nerves by the end of the day. I'm ditching that way of living!

3. Become a really hot tango dancer (is hot possible after a certain age? If not, then make it accomplished tango dancer), but in my mind I'll keep the hot--thank you very much!

4. Work less and make more. My profession will eat up your time and life faster than a bad case of MRSA. So crack the cage door because this hamster is bailing out now and then to play.

5. Paint like Van Gogh. He was prolific and passionate (also unstable, you know the ear thing and the lockup and all), but he developed his own style and pushed through the rough times without ever giving up on his art. I'm on a mission to see as many of his original works as possible, and imitate them in my own amateurishly way.

6. Reduce my carbon footprint. I know, everyone is doing this, and just think how that will change the world IF they actually do it. I'm starting small, with the light bulbs and cloth shopping bags. It will be hard, but I'm contemplating parting with a beautiful hunk of steel and the purring sound of my Jaguar. He's sleek, gorgeous and a gas guzzling glutton.

7. Travel to 8 new places. The planned list includes Yosemite, Lake Tahoe, Alaska and Kauai and the rest remain unknown. I like a little serendipity to come into play, plus there's something refreshing about letting life unfold instead of structuring it so tightly it chokes you.

8. Say YES more. Yes is an empowering word. Give yourself permission to use it often. So when doubt creeps in, you are free to borrow my mantra for this new year: Yes, you can!