FREE STUFF!

Who can resist free stuff?  It seems foolish to pass it up, right?  Who couldn’t use another rubber jar opener or keychain or tote bag? 

Me.

A year ago you wouldn’t have heard me say that.  I’ve always loved the little freebies.  As this year has rolled on, I’ve done some work related traveling that took me to different consumer shows – travel shows, travel industry events, shows sponsored by magazines and newspapers – and at all of these, people flock to the tables with the free stuff.  Everyone grabs something.  I would stroll by them, glace at the table and the grinning salesperson (I assumed), and try to graciously snag whatever item was up for grabs.  After one show, I can home with a large, heavy tote bag, loaded with brochures and catalogs of places I want to visit someday and  . . . . wait for it . . . more tote bags!! Flash drives, bottle holders, lots and lots of pens, magnets, clips, small notepads, and water bottles.

The lure of free stuff extends beyond the giveaways at trade shows.  That’s marketing.  It’s meant for you to take and use and maybe remember the business when you need a limo to the airport. 

But the free stuff isn’t really free.  It comes with a cost.  For that travel show where I got all the stuff, the cost was an aching back and shoulder from carrying it around, the loss of time and space trying to figure out where and how to store this “reference” material, and just another square foot of my home filled.  Is this what I’m paying the mortgage for?

George Carlin used to say that our homes are just a place for our stuff.  My stuff happens to fill up a two story Cape style home with a basement and garage.  We pay the mortgage to house this stuff and what of it do we actually need? 

These thoughts come to mind a lot lately.  I’ve been reading books about minimalism and seriously considering what surrounds me and the associated costs.  I’m not talking the monetary costs, although that is a part of it, but the costs to psyche from the added stress of maintaining the stuff, storing the stuff, and shopping for more stuff. 

There are a whole bunch of people out there who write about the joys of less stuff.  Who would have thought?

Some of the books I’ve read recently include:

Miss Minimalist – Inspiration to downsize, declutter, and simplify by Francine Jay

This is the one that started it.  I was in my hotel room in New York with my Kindle and somehow searching for “simplify my life” brought me to her book.  It inspired me in that she kept reminding me that less stuff means more travel, and I like travel.  I did find her a bit extreme, though, and couldn’t imagine living in a space without art on the walls.  Here’s her website:  http://www.missminimalist.com/

Simplify – 7 guiding principles to help anyone decluttertheir home and life by Joshua Becker.  Joshua and his wife were doing what many homeowners in suburbia do, clean out the garage, when it occurred to him that if he got rid of some of the stuff, he’d be able to spend more quality time with said wife and their children.  He wasn’t as extreme, and I think my goal would be along these lines.  Here is his website:  www.becomingminimalist.com

Minimalism - Live a meaningful life  by Joshua Fields Millburn & Ryan Nicodemus.  Two young guys, friends for years, plodding down the road into adulthood, doing what we’re all told to do, go out and get a job and be successful, but after a few years of “success” – making big money, buying lots of big stuff, carrying big debt – all the while feeling like something’s missing – big time.  They shed their stuff, downsize, get rid of their crap, and now write and lecture about the minimalist lifestyle.  Here’s their website:  www.theminimalists.com.  If you go to Amazon today and tomorrow (June 22^nd & 23^rd, 2012) you can download Millburn’s new book, After the Crash for free. 

How to start a freedom business  by Colin Wright  I love his idea of traveling full time and living wherever the urge takes him.  I’m not sure that I could do that but I’d be willing to try traveling for a while.  I think it’s the idea of not having any roots whatsoever that throws me.  Here’s his website:  http://exilelifestyle.com/

And I liked this post on Julien Smith’s blog:  http://inoveryourhead.net/the-short-16-step-guide-to-getting-rid-of-your-crap/

Especially # 6 . . . I have a spare room like that.  It’s only a place for stuff.  No one has lived in it. 

So this ought to get you started down the road.  Seems odd to suggest you buy more stuff to learn how to get rid of old stuff.  My Kindle is bearing the weight of my purchases.  At least I don’t have 4 (or more!) actual paper books to add to my already cluttered bookshelves. 

Now I’ve got to start getting rid of my crap.  And stop bringing in more crap.  I read this earlier today – sorry but I’m not sure where to attribute it –

It went something like:

Step 1: Rent a dumpster.
Step 2: Put your stuff in it.

The more you let go, the easier it is to let go, and the freer you become.

Be Celeste

In Gretchen Rubin’s bestselling book, The Happiness Project, the author’s research on the subject of “happiness” leads her to discover things in her life that with a few small changes, would not only make her happier, but influence those around her. 

She sets about to focus on different aspects of her life each month and uses a list of her self devised commandments as guidelines.  The very first is “Be Gretchen.”

I love this idea.

So how do I “Be Celeste”?

A question of this sort, whether you are Celeste or Jane or Liz or Gretchen, requires an examination of self.  I have to know who “Celeste” is and sometimes that’s a difficult assignment.  The study of self is as old as human consciousness.  Since the dawn of self awareness the question has been raised.  But I don’t need to concern myself with who found out what about themselves in the history of the world. 

I have only one subject:  me. 

You have only one subject: you.

Celebrating a birthday is an annual milestone that always makes me take stock in what I’ve accomplished in the past year and what I hope to achieve in the coming year.  Accomplishments and achievements are part of what makes me, me.  My style of dress, my sense of humor, my dreams, my home, my tendency to procrastinate, and my desire to perfect the recipe for guacamole are all me.  For Mother’s Day, my husband and daughter got me a Vera Bradley bag – Reality:  I went and picked it out – limey green and aqua flowery swirly and I love it.  When I showed it to a friend, she said “it’s Celeste”.  I took it as a compliment.  But was it?

But what is, and who is, and how do I – how does anyone – determine what is you?

I think Ms. Rubin’s point was that when it comes down to it, be true to you.  Remember who you are and what makes you happy each day.  Those points will change daily and look totally different for each person.  Don't force yourself into a shape that doesn't fit you.  Accept that you just don't like everything you think you should.  Trying to be someone that you're not is a key ingredient in dissatisfaction. 

There are things in my life that I really wish I enjoyed;

I wish I liked sports, so that I could have this common interest with my husband, but really, I don’t like sports.  Forcing myself to sit and pay attention to some ongoing commentary about something that I don't care about goes against my nature.  If I recognize that and not feel badly about it, I will be a happier person.

My daughter loves sushi.  I’m an adventurous diner and have tried it on many occasions and I just don’t like it.  I wish I did.  I think the artistry and the culture of sushi is very cool and I would love to claim that as something I enjoy, but I don’t.  Be Celeste.

Trying to be someone I’m not will lead me to resentment and frustration.  That’s not a place I want to be.  I have to be Celeste.  Just because I truly don’t enjoy some things doesn’t make me less of a person.  In fact, it leaves room for other interests that I do enjoy, like writing and photography, cooking and eating, collage, cool earrings, pink flamingoes, seltzer with lime, exploring new places, hot summer days, the smell of fresh basil, peppermint and coconut, cat’s paws, Jimmy Buffett music, sleeping late and reading a good book.

Maybe we’d all be happier if we recognized that as individuals living in this time, in this place, we have tastes and expectations that differ from other people’s and embrace the differences rather than try to change ourselves or fight about them.

If you like the idea of examining what makes you happy, I recommend reading Gretchen Rubin’s “The Happiness Project”. 

More info can be found here:  http://www.happinessprojecttoolbox.com/

. . .  if you like that sort of thing. 

LIFE on Life’s terms: Living in the moment or “Seas the Day”

Like many people, I struggle with the bucolic concept of living in the moment.  My daily planner is planned out months in advance.  Each week I plot out my goals for the week, my appointments, and my dinner menu.  There are very few moments that I’m not at least partly considering the next moment rather than the one I’m in.  Perhaps I’m the oddball, but I suspect that this is pretty common amongst people today.  Everything is about what’s next. 

Living in the moment . . . what does it mean?  Is it akin to so many other phrases that denote the need for appreciation for what you have or what you are or who you are at any given time? 

Is it a reminder that “life is short” so “seize the day” but don’t forget to “stop and smell the roses?” 

Those expressions wouldn’t have gained overuse prominence if there weren’t truth to them. 

This is what has prompted my little life appreciation lesson.  I was fortunate enough to “have” to go to Fort Lauderdale for my work.  Leaving Maine in March to go somewhere warm and sunny is something I dream of every January. 

This trip came up fast and took a lot of work to pull together.  With a little help from some hotel points and a supportive spouse, I was able to extend the trip two extra days and bring my daughter with me.  We had a wonderful, sunshine filled, causal couple of days. 

The evening before our 8:00 am flight home, after touring around on a water taxi and seeing the yachts and mansions of the rich and famous, we took a walk on the beach before dinner.  Always prepared, we both were wearing our bathing suits and decided to take a swim.  The water was warm, easy to get into and the waves were just raucous enough to be fun.  We have beautiful beaches in Maine but the water rarely reaches above sixty degrees and swimming in it is, well, numbingly uncomfortable for me at this age. 

We splashed and bobbed and floated for two hours.  It was getting dark and we hadn’t had dinner yet.  The guys who worked for the hotel were clearing the beach, stacking lounge chairs and picking up towels.  I felt that pull of responsibility and got out of the water to dry off.  My daughter protested and made a case for staying in, claiming she’d only rinse off in the pool rather than swim for another hour once we left the beach (she lied). 

So I gathered up our things and sat in the sand with my camera.  Watching her jump and flip around in the waves made me curiously sentimental for days when I had nothing to worry about, nothing to plan or prepare for.  Truthfully, I can’t even remember feeling like that although I must have as a child.  We had seen a boat earlier in the day that was named “Seas the Day” and I loved the play on words with one of my favorite sayings.  It was a struggle for me to just sit in the warm sand, digging my feet in, shooting the beach and waves and my sweet little daughter just playing in the ocean. 

I have returned home.  I’ve thought about those moments quite a few times, that churning in my stomach, a gnawing feeling that I should be doing something else (like packing for our early departure).  For me, recently diagnosed with ADD, I wonder if it is that “driven” feeling that is a symptom of the disorder.  Or is it’s a byproduct of a busy life?  Perhaps my Catholic school guilt which says that I shouldn’t stop and enjoy myself, that I must always be productive.  I don’t know for sure why I feel the way I do about it but I know I’m on a quest to practice more mindful behavior.  Allow myself to take pleasure in the small, wonderful things about my life, like being able to type this post with one of my cats just over my shoulder and the other nestled on the desk in front of me. 

And I will sit in the sand and watch my daughter play in the sea.  I will live in the moment, even if it’s just for a moment.  This moment. 

New Year New Ideas New Life

A friend of mine gave me this sign as a gift and I just love it.  I’ve always been a fan of New Year, almost more than of Christmas.  While I realize that I’m writing this seven days into this new year, it’s not for lack of the new ideas and other new things I’ve experienced and begun to execute in the past seven days. 

Our Christmas this was year one of new technology (a Kindle Fire for me and an iPad 2 for my daughter – hooray!).  Of course that brings with it a learning curve, and since I love learning new things, it was a great opportunity to dive right in.  I downloaded my first two book that very night. 

Our Christmas vacation, the first of its kind for us, was lazy-lounging-foody-restful and actually made me anxious to go back to work in a way.  Other than entertaining my sister and her boyfriend on New Year’s Eve and staying up past midnight (I think this was a first for my asleep-on-the-couch-by-8:30 husband) and one big event I’ll get to in a minute, it was a Christmas vacation of gluttony and sloth.  I loved it. 

In a recent post I mentioned that our cat, Ocho, who was 4 ½ years old, was hit by a car and died.  It happened just before Thanksgiving.  We all cried about this.  He was a huge member of the family and we missed him like crazy.  After some time had passed, I began to think about a new cat.  We missed having that life in the house, someone to greet you when you got home, someone to race up the stairs after coming in from the rain and jump on you in bed – with a mouse in his mouth.  Now that’s love. 

So the big event I mentioned before is that after I had mourned the death of our beloved Ocho, and as part of the healing process, I believe, I began to research Maine Coon Cat breeders in the state.  Although Ocho was a stray, we fiercely believe that he was part Maine coon.  His personality, that more of a dog in a cat’s body, his desire to “help” with everything we did, his “hanging out” with us around the house, was not typical cat, but it was typical Maine Coon behavior.  They’re even known to retain their “clowny” kitten playfulness throughout their lives. 

So to honor the first, we got two.  A male and a female.  The male was what we sought out and the female was just too pretty to not take her.  Her name is Belle and his name has yet to be decided.  I gave my daughter the naming rights on the girl and she’s been studying French and was looking for something that meant “pretty” so “Belle.  The naming rights for the boy go to my husband, for whom this was a surprise.  He hasn’t made the call yet.  Now we have these two little beings in our lives.  Fuzzy, rambunctious, purring little beings. 

On to the new ideas section of this post; these are some of the goals I wish to accomplish this year:

1. Develop a new website for my photography work – one that targets a more commercial, more fine art market to sell my work on a larger scale.
2. Learn how to create mixed media art using my photography, collage material, paint, whatever is on hand and works, and bring my artistic development up a notch.
3. Create a cohesive, intentional marketing effort to get my work out there. 
4. Get back in shape and feel better about myself – yeah, I know, everyone does this at this time of year – but I mean it . . .
5. Make this a year of art shows and person to person sales.
6. Put more effort into my Etsy and Ebay outlets to sell my work. 
7. Go to 7 places I’ve never been; 3 outside of the state of Maine.
8. Publish an article – in print – and get paid for it.
9. Create an email marketing plan and write regular newsletters.
10. Invest in new equipment, mainly upgrade my computer, but also consider getting a new lens and perhaps an iPad for presentational purposes.

To this goal, I like to create some incentives, something I can go back to to be inspired to move on, to refresh my brain.  I like doing collages.  I clip inspirational sayings, words, photos from all kinds of sources and create a spread that highlights the direction I want to move.  Earlier this year I did one with words that flowed from the present space I was in into the end result I was hoping for.  Recently, with the new year, I did one with the words and images of the goals I have for the year.  The above photo and below are some of the parts. 

Check back here often;  I will continue to post examples of this and the other work I’m doing as well as updates on how these kittens are faring in our home.  By the looks of them in this photo, they’re doing pretty well so far.  

If you want to be happy, be.

This quote was in a newsletter I got yesterday.  It was attributed to Leo Tolstoy.  A short little sentence it is, but oh the power it assumes.  As I read it and thought about it, I could almost feel the happiness roll over me. 

If you want to be happy, you can be happy.  Why is it that we tend to give away to others the power of our own happiness?  By that I mean the self defeating statements that I know I’m guilty of enunciating like “I’ll be happy when  . . . we can buy a bigger house . . . this winter is over . . . fill in the blank.”  It could be anything on which you hinge happiness. 

 So, stop waiting ... 
Until your car or home is paid off. 
Until you get a new car or home. 
Until your kids leave the house. 
Until you go back to school. 
Until you finish school. 
Until you lose 10 lbs. 
Until you gain 10 lbs. 
Until you get married. 
Until you get a divorce. 
Until you have kids. 
Until you retire. 
Until summer.. 
Until spring. 
Until winter. 
Until fall. 
Until you die. There is no better time than right now to be happy. Happiness is a journey, not a destination. So work like you don't need money, love like you've never been hurt, 
and, dance like no one's watching. 

If not now, when? Your life will always be filled with challenges.  It's best to admit this to yourself and decide to be happy anyway. Happiness is the way. So, treasure every moment that you have and treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time with ... and remember that time waits for no one. 

I recall a story that was emailed to me a few years back.  A man’s wife had just died and he was preparing the outfit in which she would be buried.  In her closet he comes across several brand new outfits, lovely ones, still with tags on them.  She had been saving them for something, some special time, not thinking that the day may never come.  Feel good and be happy now.  Why had she not enjoyed the new clothes and the way they felt against her skin or the way the color set off her eyes?  Why wait?

Okay so as we roll into another year, I’m going to post this little quote on the top of my day planner.  I will write it in random places in my calendar to remind me that I don’t need a reason or have to wait to be happy.  My life is good today. 

Merry Christmas all!

Recovery topic: Missing out?

“Do you feel like you’ve missed out?” The question was raised at a meeting last week. When directed at me, I replied as honestly as I could and said that no, I feel like sobriety has given me more than I feel that I’ve missed. I’ve been thinking about the question, and its resulting conversation and my response since then. Does the fact that I cannot safely drink alcohol mean that I miss out on the things in life that I would otherwise enjoy?

Tomorrow is my 45th birthday.  I spent my 40th birthday in rehab. I had just reached 30 days sobriety. Joe had been sending me cards and letters, but we were not yet a couple. One of the girls and I had spent the afternoon in the house kitchen making me a birthday cake, orange chiffon. They all made me a huge birthday card and wrote the requisite congratulations and birthday wishes. Not long after that birthday, I “graduated” from the program. The months after are filled with good things like falling in love with my friend, Joe and some bad things like relapse and disappointment. I was on the edge of life, wanting so desperately to be “normal” and be able to drink and party like I had been. The other side of that edge was I life I could barely see, but was at its beginnings. It gleamed on the horizon. If I squinted hard enough I could see a life of calm, an end to chaos and fear, days filled with what the “real” world considers “normal,” like taking my kid to school and making dinner for my family and being loved more than I could imagine and actually believing that I was worthy of that life and love.

Here I sit five years later with no question in my mind that I am worthy and deserve what I have. Do I think I’ve missed out on anything because I couldn’t drink through the last five years? Would my life have been better if I could have had beers at the barbeques that I have been to? Or pina coladas in the Caribbean? Or champagne at my own wedding? I honestly doubt that it would have enhanced any of the experiences I’ve had. In fact, when I really examine how it had been, the reality of it is that it’s unlikely I would have been invited to the barbeques. Nor would I have gone to the Caribbean. Getting married would not have happened either. If I had continued to drink as I had been, there’s a question as to whether I would have even made it to this day alive. I feel quite certain that Nola would not be living with me. I know for a fact that Joe would not. My parents were nearing the point that they couldn’t deal with me. The friends I had at the time, the few that were left, had grown tired of my antics and drama.

As to the question of whether or not I’ve missed out, I add – Missed out on what?



Okay – yeah I missed out. I missed out on going to court and losing custody of my daughter because it would have been unsafe for her to be left in my care. I missed out on getting caught driving while intoxicated because “I was fine”. I missed out on who knows how many fights with my ex-husband about who knows what because active alcoholism requires drama and self loathing and being a victim. I missed out on the loneliness and desperation. I missed out on a lot of crying. I missed out on having to apologize to people after having drunk dialed them, and then remembered it in the morning. I missed out on all the cringing and wondering exactly what I had done and said. I missed out on crashing my car and hurting myself or another person. I missed out on missing Joe after he had had enough of me. I missed out on staying in that crappy apartment and struggling to get through every day. Yes, I guess I missed out on a lot.

So as I round the corner into forty five years on this planet my worries and concerns face forward. I am not mired in regret. What did happen happened and not one tear is going to change anything. What did happen is that I got sober. That triggered a series of events that have made my life as wonderful as it is now. The amazing gift of balance and serenity has seeped into all other areas of my life. My wonderful daughter has the mom she needs, who can support her and love her and laugh with her. My husband has a wife who can truly be a partner as well as a friend and lover and a fun date. My parent’s daughter emails and calls them just about daily about the little good things. Being sober allows me to be all of this and more. I’m a co-worker that others can depend on, not gossip about. No one shakes their heads and wonders when I’m out sick. I’m a photographer with a clear focus not only on the business I’m building, but on the images I create and the image I cultivate. I’ve got gifts I couldn’t have imagined that day in rehab five years ago. I’ve done things I hadn’t even dreamed about. I have possibilities and determination, and no reason to believe that I can’t achieve whatever it is that I want.

The fear of “missing out” on the good stuff has a counterpart in “missing out” on the bad stuff. Talk about balance.

Still Life?

Why is it that I just can’t sit still? I don’t mean the squirmy kid kind of sitting still. I mean the settling into life and being satisfied with what and who I am kind of still.




Yesterday, while my husband was working and my daughter was visiting her dad, I found myself with something that I’m unaccustomed to having: time for myself. I knew this was coming and had planned to do some things that I had long wanted to do. I was looking forward to a few hours working on my photography, sorting through images to print, put together a portfolio, write a few days worth of blogs, work on a short story I want to submit, finish with a couple of photo contest entries, and maybe actually go out and drop off some work to a retailer or two in hopes of making a sale. You can see that my list was extensive and therefore became somewhat overwhelming. You would think that perhaps I would have been able to accomplish a few items, maybe even start a few more. How much of it did I do? None. Instead I did some shopping for the house and garden, started some slow cooked ribs for dinner, mulched the bed in front of the house, filled the birdfeeders, did all of the dishes, ran 2 miles, and made some guacamole. Most of those things can be done with my husband and kid around. I was supposed to be focusing on the things I can’t do when they’re in the house, the stuff that needs uninterrupted concentration.

I asked myself, in the midst of scooping out avocados, why I was doing such a thing. Why wasn’t I in the office, doing what I claim to love doing? Is it because it’s hard? Is it because after a few non stop days, I was burnt out and really needed to just be making guacamole at that time?



Being quiet and still is extremely difficult when the world streams on. I find it hard to be inactive mentally for even a few moments. The idea of mindfulness is intriguing but I find it a challenge to implement. My mind is constantly racing, checking off and adding to the to-do list. Like the tide, the list ebbs and flows, but doesn’t stop. I am not concerned that my inability to recall each item is a sign of a mental deficiency. I am concerned about its effect on my health, as I tend to carry my stress in my shoulders and neck. To take a few minutes to quietly breathe and think of nothing seems impossible. Perhaps yoga or meditation would be of benefit. How do you calm the mind and spirit?