This Thanksgiving, Don't Forget to Feed the Good Wolf

Each night, before I fall asleep, I try and ask myself how I did that day. Not just how I succeeded or failed or ate or exercised, but how was I as a person?
Was I good?
Was I bad?
Was I a mix of both?
Was there anything I wished I could change?
Was there anything I wished I could do over and over again?

I've been setting little personal goals for myself weekly, trying to either remove or enhance certain things I see in my personality or behavior. I usually come up with these things at night when I am reviewing my day.

For example, one of my major faults (and this is only a fault because it sometimes makes me feel a bit icky afterwards) is that I frequently reveal too much about myself. Shocker, right?!
I do this at dinner parties, or if I've met someone new I really like. In the moment I may just be trying to explain who I am or where I have been or what I have been through, but afterwards I feel a bit hollow, icky and exposed. So, I have decided to eliminate that from my behavior, let only those who love me or wish to know me really well know who I am. For the rest, I have plenty of silly stories to share. But my secrets, I'll guard.

But other than these little things that one can analyze and no one else may even pick up on, the average person on a daily basis is not met with huge chances to prove they are a good person. Despite what we see in the movies, there aren't enough buses careening through town for us to jump in front of in order to shove old ladies out of the way. Big opportunities that may define us for a long time as being "good" are rare...

So, what's a good person to do? Well, just like anything in life, you've got to practice.

Fortunately, life gives us hundreds of little opportunities every single day to be "good."
When I wake up in the morning to go walk Dungee my neighbor lady's paper is always at the bottom of our driveway. Now, I can choose one of two things: walk over it and leave it where it lay OR I can pick it up and place it in the nook of her doorway. Not rocket science. Just a nice thing to do.

At a stop sign, I can acknowledge the fact that I got to the sign first and proceed to speed through OR I can wave to the mom and son standing and yell out my window "Go on ahead! I'm in no rush!"

Out surfing. I can drop in on someone if we're both going for a wave, or I can let them have one if it is their turn.

I can walk over a piece of trash, or I can pick it up.

I can eat the last pumpkin spice muffin or I can leave one for my roommate.

You get the idea. Tiny. Little. Mini. Chances. To. Do. Good.

And each day, as you do it once, you do it again and then it becomes habit. You suddenly are the only person at Trader Joe's that smiles and waits at the sample counter. People in the line-up thank you for not dropping in. Your neighbor lady becomes your friend. You have more pleasant drives everywhere...

And over time, before you fall asleep you know the answer to the question.
I was a good person today. And you sleep soundly and happily, wondering what opportunities the next day will bring to be good.

I've been doing this for about two months now, and it was all inspired by what is now a mildly famous story, The Story of The Good Wolf.
"There is a story about a Navajo grandfather who once told his grandson,

'Two wolves live inside me. One is the bad wolf, full of greed and laziness, full of anger and jealousy and regret. The other is the good wolf, full of joy and compassion and willingness and a great love for the world. All the time, these wolves are fighting inside me.'
'But grandfather,' the boy said. 'Which wolf will win?'
The grandfather answered, 'The one you feed the most.'

So, this Thanksgiving, invite the Good Wolf to your table and feed him well and continue to do so every day you can.

Moxie The Kid

When I was a kid I spent a lot of time playing by myself, or with my dog, Trixie. Growing up on the shores of Tamarack Lake was magical. I had endless woods to explore, fields to romp in and a huge lapping lake to fish out of, boat in and stare at. It was a small neighborhood, and while there were other kids to play with some of the time, I spent a lot of time by myself.

My happiest memories from my childhood involve me, my dog and watching the little boats I'd build bob on the water. I could stare for hours at the water, seeing how the light reflected off the tiny waves and tracking where the currents took my boats.
Sometimes I'd build forts, or make a neighborhood newspaper or set up a car wash - but for the most part I stuck to exploring nature by myself. I was happy.

Those early years I had an indomitable character. I knew exactly what I wanted. Then, I would go out and get it. I also knew exactly what I didn't want, or didn't want to do. And if anybody pressed me? Big resistance. I knew the exact line between right and wrong and though I made mistakes, I always tried to do the right thing. I remember the exact moment when I decided that I wanted to be an optimist. It was a conscious decision. One that I had stewed over for quite some time as I walked the woods around my house. Pessimism had it's advantages, ya know. All the sarcasm, pooh-poohing other people's ideas, never being disappointed because you were rooting for disappointment all along, being able to generally bitch and moan...
But, I chose optimism, because I saw it as the only real way to live. I really thought hard on that one though.
Those early years formed me into a very self assured optimist who knew exactly who and what she wanted to be. To put it simply? I had moxie.

Then, I went to school, then college, then to work. And suddenly? I was surrounded by people. All the time. When you are surrounded by people, you become defined by them.
Specifically, you become defined by their perceptions of you. You become familiar with what certain people associate you with, and you pretty much build on that every single time you meet or talk.
At work I was seen as determined, sometimes stubborn, aggressive, outspoken, yet extremely fair. Socially I was a butterfly, silly, outgoing and always up for anything that came my way.
When I left New York I would've defined myself as loyal, curious, adventurous and extremely outgoing.

But a funny thing happened on the way to the beach...

I got here and realized I had moved somewhere by myself. All by myself. Gulp.

There are no resumes for who you are as a person. There is no way to bring along to a new place what a good friend or roommate you were in the past.

Each person you meet, meets you completely anew. It was extremely humbling to me when I would be working in the taco stand and someone would treat me as if, well, I was a girl who worked in a taco stand. What else would they have treated me as? That was who I was now.

Or when I was living in the camper, and people would treat me as some weirdo living in a camper. They didn't know anything about my past, or that this was a totally weird situation to me as well. They took me in complete context of how they met me.

It's a small town here, and I think that with all my transitions and adventures no one really knows what the hell to make of me. Just who IS this girl?

Meanwhile this forced me to spend an inordinate amount of time by myself. Something I had not done since those very early days as a child. I have also had the magic of being near nature and having a dog. Those three things combined: singularity, nature, dog. Those three things have done something amazing.

I have redefined myself, or rather, I have re-found myself. What I thought had changed in me and my personality was just the smoke and mirrors of the perceptions of other people. I hadn't really changed at all, I had just adapted. But now I have reversed the evolution and gone back to plain and simple old ME.

It's a hard thing to be defined by your own perceptions. You really want people to like you. It's human nature to want to be accepted. But the gift in being happy completely when you are on your own is that you always have a place to go back to where you know you'll be happy.

Interactions are a bit different now. I am more assured and I'm not really that worried about disappointing someone or having them not like me, or get me, or want to talk to me again. To each his own. I have really great conversations with the horizon and some of my happiest moments with Dungee or surfing by myself. It's refreshing hanging out with me. We GET each other.

If there is any advice I can give to anyone who feels a bit discombobulated or confused or overwhelmed or misguided? Take some time. Take more time that that, actually. Take as much time as humanly possible and spend it by yourself.
Discover what you think, what you feel, what you love and how you want to spend your day and what makes you happy. You can only really discover yourself after you spend long and repeated sections of time all by your lonesome.
And sometimes it does get lonesome, and when this happens I reach out and try and meet new people. I guess if hunger is the best spice, then loneliness is an aphrodisiac. And I have met a few people that I truly treasure here. I can count them on half of one hand. And while it's hard not to be able to throw a party when the Steelers are on or have a ton of social engagements to keep you busy, it's been a blessing. I found my old best friend, Me, out here in California.
We get along like 1 pea in 1 pod.
And each day we discover something we forgot about ourself, and we have fun doing it.

Like tonight -I'm going to sit back and watch the Steelers beat the Broncos and think about the good ol' days, floating boats with my dog on Tamarack.

Life. Is. Swell.

My pumpkin is a self portrait.

For three days I have had the distinct pleasure of surfing a swell.
A swell that has spanned 3 days, but seems like a lifetime.
What appeared on my early morning Wednesday walk as a friendly pumping glass session,

turned into a gnarly overhead monster session,

into an inspired cruisy afternoon at San 'O

to a late morning dream left at Trap's to a sunset with friends,

I feel like myself.

I had more revelations, laughs, inspirations, creations, wipeouts, hand drags, drop-ins, duck dives, cutbacks, quasi-floaters, pelicans, and giggles than I ever thought possible.

I can't remember the last time I felt this light, happy and hopeful.

3 days of surfing and I'm a little kid and a happy woman at the same time.

I can't wait to lie in bed tonight and daydream about my own life. Lucky to have the life I have. Luckier still to have the ocean, the waves and the opportunity to express myself with the sheer joy and activity of surfing.

Life. Is. Swell.

xoxo ??

When you are in a relationship, you have a lot to keep you warm at night. You have companionship, love, safety a certain amount of assuredness and you've got someone to snuggle with.

When you are single, what keeps you warm on certain nights is your friends, your family or your dog... but some nights, something else entirely is what keeps you warm. Single life is made up, instead of long embraces, short little blasts and flickers of electricity. Single life is sparks of opportunity, flashes of eyes and a quick beat when you see someone new who sees you the same way.

I needed some sparks.

I found myself last night saying "Man, I wish I had a secret admirer." And then I wondered, do people even DO that anymore? Is the secret admirer just a dead concept? 'Cause if so, colossal bummer! There is nothing quite like the secret admirer. Someone who just drops sparks your way in little notes, cards, messages, trinkets... It sounded so fun!

But, the sad thing about secret admirers is they are even trickier to find than boyfriends!

Hmmmm, but wait a second... Do you think the sparks work both ways? That the secret admirer may just get a few too?

So, today, I left my very first secret admirer note. In a tiny little card I scribbled, (I can't tell you guys, it's a secret!) and I left it under my tip for a very adorable gentleman with blue eyes and a nice smile, who always makes me smile back when I get a smoothie.

What if the Hokey Pokey IS what it's all about?

For those of you that read this blog frequently, what I have to say may sound familiar. The circumstances of my life may feel like de ja vu and there may even be a few of you who might say a little under your breath "didn't she already DO this before?"

But, that precisely, is the point. I have been exactly where I am at, and where I have been, more than a few times. And to be honest? I may just end up doing it all over again.

I've been noticing some patterns in my own life, wondering how it is that I came to live in someone else's house, crash on an airmattress for a few weeks, struggle to find an apartment and work... all. over. again.

I had some bleak moments. I had times when I was ready to pack it all up, turn myself away from the ocean, the dreams, the adventure and head straight back to my parent's house, where I could just take a BREAK from it all. But, people wouldn't let me. People, other than myself, stood in my way and said "Uh, UH. You are NOT giving up." And so, I stayed.

And now, it seems, that everything has worked out for the the best, as it always has. Dungee and I are right back in our old neighborhood. We're tucked away in a cute little beachy room and a nice comfy bungalow house (this time with some sweet roommates). It's like a complete repeat of last year, but with a few twists.

I will freely admit that I was both humbled and embarrassed by how much I needed help. I hate asking for help. I hate admitting I need it. It bothers me that at 32 I need it. Shouldn't I be buying a house? Building a 401K? Going to Vegas with my girls from college and drinking martinis? Shouldn't I be able to buy something from Crate & Barrel, actually from the store, not at a garage sale?

That is not the life I chose for myself, for good or bad. I chose a different sort of American dream. American dreams, typically, involve very linear paths. In fact, a reader of this blog, Mario once put it to me like this:

"You really need to get a grip on reality. These are the steps of finding a life.
1. Get educated - make friends
2. Get a career - make friends
3. Get a spouse - make friends
4. Have kids - make friends
Any extra time is for surfing. You got everything wrong. Pursuing crazy un-realistic dreams. You will be back to living off your parents very soon."

In a sense? He's right. This is what we are taught to do, how to shape our lives, how to know what we are doing is right. There is a path. There are goals. Little checks, ticks to mark and obtainable, understandable goals. It's what I thought I would do when I was a little kid. It's what I imagined when I was growing up.

However, somewhere, somehow, along the way, I decided that I would only do the very next step if I felt completely confident I had sucked the very last drop out of the steps before it.

Then, I did something even more radical. I decided to just throw out the entire damn timeline, ladder and checklist. So WHAT if I didn't ever do some things on that list? What if I didn't just climb straight up?

What if, instead of walking a straight line, I put my left foot in and checked the temperature of the water a bit?

What if I then took my left foot OUT if I didn't like it?

What if I walked a bit in the opposite direction and put my right foot in? And what if I had to take it out again?

I could dance to the west and put my left arm in, and if I fell on my face, I'd take it out.

I could skip around and put my right arm in, try something else. Take it out.

What if I chose to follow my crazy unbelievable unimaginable DREAMS and....
Put My Whole Self In And Shake It All About?

Ahhhhhh, NOW we are getting somewhere.

I have chosen a life that is not easy,
that is definitely scary,
in which I frequently repeat mistakes,
that in which I sometimes ask for help,
that while living it I never know what is going to happen along this crazy, windy road...

AND, I have chosen to dance the entire way,
not gracefully,
not dramatically,
but to the only song that seems to make sense to base your life upon,
The Hokey Pokey.

Pure Magic

Late Friday afternoon.
Right before sunset.
I paddled out with Johanna.
It was glassy.
The waves were fun.
The crowd was heavy.
The sky was cloudy.
It was Barney's.
I caught an amazing right all the way in.
Super glassy fun rides.
I found a side peak.
A set wave came.
I actually went for it.
I paddled.
I dropped in.
It was steeper than the rest.
I saw the wave getting ready to crumble ahead of me.
I crouched down.
I sped up.
I pulled past the crest.
The wave broke.
I drug my hand in the face.
I felt.
I felt...
the wave curl over my back.
Just a little.
Just enough.
Just a enough to let me know.
How it feels to get barreled.
Crashing behind you.
Spray on your legs.
Glass in front.
Judging your speed.
In the most perfect place in the world.
If I was addicted before?
There is no turning back now.
Still smiling.
Dreaming of the next one.

Surfdogs

I've been hearing about the Surf Dog Surf-a-thon since I moved here.
It's big news in these parts. I had my doubts about whether or not I should go. It would be crowded, covered in dog fur and sand, and really, how well could a DOG surf?

Well, friends, the decision to attend the 4th annual Surf Dog Surf-a-thon was one of the best I've made since living in California. It was pure, simple and uncontrollable fun.
I cannot even describe how hard I laughed and cheered.
My only regret? Is that Dungee wasn't out there. But, she did have fun digging a big hole with her friend Lucas... maybe next year.

Enjoy the madness.
Dogs surfing backwards.
A mutt snaking a St. Bernard.
A bulldog that has more paparazzi than Kelly Slater.
Irish setters taking some killer lefts.
But, my favorite part has to be the chihuahua on the pink board at the end of the video. I swear it got barreled for a second. That dog went for it.