Emily Bunnell balked when I first brought up a #GirlsRock interview.
This is common. So many incredible women I approach (for this!) feel like they’re not #GirlsRock material. Which kind of reinforces that you actually are. I knew within 10 minutes of working with Emily at an ACN event in Detroit that I’d ask.
Emily had scooted aside to allow me room at the table with the company’s co-founders and other heavy hitters to prep for international training.
Speaking of training … at that table, I learned that this contracted designer competed at the highest levels as a weight lifter. I later learned after we became colleagues and friends of her penchant for taking the most incredible global adventures, too.
Before I start writing again, I want to share with you a handful of wonderful interviews for #GirlsRock. For the uninitiated – #GirlsRock is an interview series that highlights women who do cool things.
Holli Nesbitt and I met on Facebook, and I quickly learned how passionate she is about helping people find better health.
During my time at ACN, I’ve seen how challenging network marketing can be. It takes someone special, with people skills and perseverance. You can’t have one without the other – and Holli has both in abundance.
There’s some serious reconstruction happening, friends. It started right around the time I left for Detroit and it’s happening now. It hits me when I step back into this blog and realize it’ll be more than a month since my last post.
A month. I remember times when I’d shun a plate of tacos to get a post posted. Like anything, nothing stays the same. Sometimes there’s work to be done and walls to demolish and structure to save, and sometimes the work feels tedious and pointless.
And sometimes the light breaks through at just the right angle. It illuminates something just well enough to show you a way, to demonstrate what’s possible. Even when you feel like you’re in the middle of the impossible.
The slow demolition of the small, old arena attached to the former Cobo Center stopped me in my tracks during my stay in Detroit. When you freeze a moment on the decomposition of one element for another? It gives you incredible insight.
If it’s within a mile or so, I’m so hoofing it. Unless I’m pressed for time. Or it’s all highway with no sidewalks. Or it’s too cold. Or too hot. Also, only if I have one of my miles-walking pairs of shoes on like I wear to Target.
Last fall, Camdyn had a tournament in beautiful Gatlinburg, Tenn.
I love that place. The forecast was for snow and a low of zero. But it would get up near freezing during the day. Other parents moaned. I secretly wanted to see how Camdyn would play as a block of Camdyn ice.
I’m in a spot with not enough time to finish this, but also not so little time I can’t start.
And that’s sort of been the calling card in my life lately. Again, were this blog a goldfish in a bowl, it’d be floating belly-up. Interestingly, I feel better equipped to handle a hectic life than ever. And life is still keeping me away from this space.
I’ve kept up (mostly) every day with the gratitude journal, so there’s plenty of material. Hopefully, that’ll get finished tonight after my boys’ soccer training and Camdyn’s teams’, when that Monster Energy drink kicks in somewhere between here and the Lowe’s Y.
You can earn money on them. I’ve probably gathered $10 toward my stupendous PayPal balance by revealing my spending habits, taking quizzes about commercials that air during Live PD, and disclosing just how Hispanic I am.
Not overly, it turns out.
I mean, I rock the cuisine and will always retain my honey-roasted complexion. But these surveys ask if we speak Spanish in the home or watch Spanish-language programming. No and no. (Those words, luckily, are the same in English and Spanish.)
Kinda like the Rockies’ bats lately, my words have ground to a crawl. When this happens, you churn on. There are no timeouts in soccer or life. Your life GPS won’t direct you around it. No, the only way is through.
So when the calendar ambles along for an intersection for your kid to move to college and it’s also the 19th anniversary of the day your dad died, well, there are stories.
Even if you don’t have time right away to write them. Or maybe you try and get seven graphs in and realize you’re so not doing the feelings justice. It’s like getting Frosted Flakes but pouring them into skim milk. WHO DOES THAT?
I won a book called The Write-Brain Workbook for dominating a bowling tournament of writers. (It was in doubles, and David threw hard and wild and I was the finesse. Also yes: It’s not even a little bit difficult to dominate most writers in a bowling tournament.)
Instead of a pair of plane tickets or at least a sweet new Red Ventures T-shirt, David and I won these books – and I’m pretty sure they were second-hand.
So when you’re given a janky book to celebrate your sporting supremacy, you make chicken soup. Or, lemonade. Well, you know what I mean. I’ve held onto this thing a while and just now started to make some use of it.
My interview with Amber McCrea started and ended in the same afternoon.
It didn’t feel that way. We exchanged questions over Facebook messenger with such mindfulness that time didn’t weigh in much. Before I knew it, we’d wrapped it up. Her insights and observations could’ve filled another post.
I’m unsure who to credit or blame, but this stuff is intentional, somehow.
Rather than try to explain it, I’m just thankful for the opportunity. She’s embarked on missions to make further connections and create magic elsewhere, too. I have a feeling that magic will do some kickass things out there.