While shopping one day, I asked my mother about her father (a man I do not recall meeting because he passed away when I was just two years old).  A stern (to say the least) fellow, my mother described him as hard-working, not a great communicator and seemingly disengaged with most of what was going on around him. One of nine children at the time, my mother was the seventh born in a very poor, family of farmers in rural Puerto Rico. Her father worked hard in sugar cane fields most days and returned home tired and with little to say to anyone. For most children, this type of parent might leave a kid feeling dejected and unimportant. Yet, my mother shared with me that she always believed she was his favorite child. She said that although he never uttered these words or much less expressed any level of affection that would indicate this to be true, she always believed that he looked at her with love and warmth.

This wowed me. How often in my life have I believed that the way someone treated me or addressed me was the most important indicator of the being that I am?  Ask yourself: how often has this been the case for you? At work, you might receive a sideway glance from a co-worker and suddenly believe that you have done something wrong. Or, your boss might tell you “great job” and you’re floating on cloud nine all day. In a relationship, your partner might act distant or aloof and suddenly, you think it’s you; you’ve done something wrong. Or, he might offer you flowers and suddenly you are queen for the day.

What does it say about us (as individuals) that someone else’s behaviors, words or actions can so dramatically effect what we fundamentally believe about ourselves?  Do others have that much control over us?

If you’ve ever listened to someone who has beaten a life-threatening disease or watched a news clip of an athlete having just won a major game or match, you will almost certainly hear the same basic message: “I just knew that I was going to win. I couldn’t see it turning out any other way.” In my mother’s case, she just couldn’t see her father feeling anything else for her but love, adoration and respect. He may have felt completely opposite about her (although I doubt that was the case), but it didn’t matter. Her reality was that she was his favorite. And, so it was.

Now, I’m not suggesting that if we all walk around believing that we are millionaires, then we have total freedom to go crazy racking up the credit card debt with no responsibility for repayment. There are certain truths for all of us that we must accept: our financial situation, our state of health, our status in the PTA and so on. No matter the truth, though, we can all choose to believe how we feel about the situation.

“I am near broke right now but I believe that the money I need (and then some) is on its way because I am taking the steps I need to get there.”

“My pants will barely button today, but I believe that I’m still beautiful and I will rock these red heels!”

“Today is going to be a long day but I believe that I will easily get through it, meet my deadline and wow the team.”

How you feel is how you deal. 

If you believe that you are something, then you are.

If you believe a situation is unchangeable, then it is.

If you believe what others tell you about yourself, then you are what they say you are.

So, today, take a moment to paint your own truth. Seriously…whether you do it in the car on the way to work or on the way home, in the shower or while brushing your teeth…think on what you want to be today and then be that.  Think on how you want your day to flow, and watch it be so.

Happy believing.

Now, I’m not saying that news isn’t important. Hell, a local news story in my home city recently accounted how the local energy provider was denying the dangers of an open gas leak in a residential neighborhood. AN OPEN GAS LEAK, for crying out loud!!!  (This thing was bubbling over and looking all sorts of crazy, like something out of Amityville Horror). That’s important news.  Local funding cutbacks?  That’s important news. Major traffic jams on the way to work. That’s important news.  But, what about the “other stuff” that we all busily check our phones and emails for?

Here’s the big question: what are all we all looking for?  What news are we waiting to arrive?  It’s almost as if we can’t simply be in the moment with what is around us…we need to keep finding out about the next big thing. Now, yes, it would be crazy to think that our world would be any fun if not for entertaining sites that show us ridiculous photos of “FAIL”-ed public signs or videos of cats playing piano. But, during the time that we are busily waiting for more, more, more…life is happening, happening, happening.

Truth is, we all get distracted. Case in point: have you ever seen a person who’s newly “in love”?  They are usually GLUED to their mobile phone checking to see if their new honey has texted or emailed or called or arranged for a hovercraft to land in their back yard to deliver flowers. They are all about the “what’s gonna happen next” that they are too busy to see what’s happening now.

This little concept is called mindlessness – living or being in a state of everywhere but NOW. Move along the spectrum of life events, and we can see how mindlessness affects all of us: car accidents, dinner ruined from overcooking, kids failing tests because they’re too worried about mom and dad fighting later, parents having heart attacks after years of eating poorly and not exercising. It’s not very often that we live in the now.

I had an incredible experience in Laguna Niguel, California recently. I was standing at a business cocktail party on the shoreline of the Ritz Carlton hotel (a magnificent place) and I was chatting with some newly-introduced colleagues. It was a gorgeous evening – wind blowing, palm trees, all that jazz. Deep in conversation about future professional opportunities, though, we all failed to notice something happening so swiftly right before our eyes.

I looked over my left shoulder and noticed a small island off the cost. I inquired to the group about the name of the island.  “Oh, that’s Catalina,” replied one person. I could see the sun slowly disappearing behind one of the peaks of this island – which was very low to the daybreak line. Suddenly, as if to say “Hold the phone, people!  Something awesome is about to shake down”, one of the fellows we were with said, “Everyone, quiet down for a second. Watch this. We have about 15 more seconds of daylight before that orange ball (the sun) disappears for the day.”  He counted down aloud.

15

14

13

12

11

10 (“Oh dear Lord”, I thought, “this is painful.  Who cares about this?”

9

8

7 (Silence hit the swelling group of onlookers now noticing the sunset.)

6

5

4 (Wow. This is beautiful. It’s so finite, so resolute. This is now. I am here.)

3

2

1 (Don’t go)

The sun had set. The air had shifted and calmness came over the group. Mindfulness came over the group! What was so important just a few minutes prior in our mindless banter about “synergistic opportunities to develop strategic blah, blah, blah” was suddenly boring and rather meaningless. We all looked at each other pitifully – strangers who had just met a few hours ago – and silently questioned: “How can we keep this blissful, mindful moment going?”  It was actually quite funny; almost like “I don’t know you, but I want to be happy with you right now.”

The image of the sun setting over Catalina Island is never far off in my mental ledger of amazing views.  It was so peaceful and time-stopping. Simple, but powerful. What or when was your last mindful moment? Do you remember what it felt like? What did the air smell or taste like? Try to take yourself back there. Or, more interestingly, take yourself back to a recent mindless moment and try to relive it in your mind as if you had really been present. Notice anything different this time around?

Being present is not an easy task when you are constantly trying to be somewhere else. But in being present, we give ourselves and those around us the gift of our being – of our love, attention, compassion, understanding.  If you’ve ever felt a wave of emotion overtake you as you’ve seen someone take his last living breath or seen a baby born or watched a loving couple say “I do”, then you’ve been present. It’s truly awesome and a way of being, I think, that we all should strive to accomplish every moment of every day. So start now. Be more mindful and see just how many amazing “now” moments you have.

The morning came when we were all to be notified of our roles with the future company. I sat in my office, watching as person after person was escorted down the hall to their director’s office – where a representative from the new regime, I mean, um, company was waiting with papers in hand.  It was dreadful and I wanted nothing more than to run screaming from the building. My stomach growled with furious pain and my heart pounded with sadness as I awaited my turn.

Then, I received a phone call. And it was the most important call I could have received in that moment.  It was my sister. She had been parked in the lot of my office building for over an hour waiting for me. In that moment, all she said to me was, “Andrea, let it go. You don’t need these people. When you are ready, I am waiting for you. Just grab your things and come outside. We will get away from here.”

My God! “Let it go. You don’t need this…when you are ready…I am here…join me and we will get away together.”  Those words – in that instant – shattered my perception of the reality that I had been shaping for years. (And, still, now – writing these words makes me cry with such gratitude). It was as if my sister had thrown a dense rock through the muddled veil behind which I had set up as my reality.  She liberated me (as only a loving, selfless, sister could do) when I could not liberate myself. She was my savior in that moment.

“Reality” is an interesting concept.  What do you deem as your reality? Many of you might say:

I am a parent

I work to pay my bills

I care for my parents

I am black, or white, or Asian (or all three!)

I am a successful attorney

I am an unlucky person

I am fat

I am tall

I am short and beautiful

I live in a small house or a huge mansion

Notice how all of these statements begin with either “I am” or some implied “I do” or “I have” and end with an identifier of some specific social meaning. I would like to challenge that you (we) are none of these things. We are all beings. We are all beings of love. Now, I know…you’re thinking: “Come on, Andrea.  Get off it.  What the hell does that mean?

Well, think about it. When does reality happen?  It happens now (not yesterday or tomorrow because those things are no longer or are not yet happening).  And reality continues to happen in the now…and now…and now. Do you believe you have control over your reality? I know I do and I’m certain most of us would like to believe that we do. So, if that’s true, would you say that you are just a parent?  That you are fat and nothing else? That you are beautiful and can offer no more?

No way!  We are multi-dimensional beings and that means we are ALL things. And, what is the one thing – in its truest form – that encompasses all things? LOVE. Yes, that four-letter word that has been sung about, written about, thrown into the muds of our times, exalted in scriptures from every faith around the world. It’s so simple when you think about it:  I can’t be just one thing in this life – or else I couldn’t survive. So, I must be something greater and that one thing must be love. How beautiful to have this realization now…and now…and now.

When my sister called me that day from her car, she released me from the false “now-reality” that I was living in. She showed me that I was none of the “things” that I had come to identify myself with in that moment (a video producer, an unlucky person, an “I don’t care what happens” person). She showed me that I was more than all those things. She showed me I was love. To her, it didn’t matter how much money I was making, or what I did for a living, what I was wearing, who I worked for. I was me – I was love.

After I received the news that morning, I picked up my umbrella and walked outside into the gray, rainy, October day. The air was thick with the musk of dying earthworms having been trampled under the feet of so many anxious employees entering and leaving the building. For some reason, though, I felt light as air as I approached my sister’s car and shed not one tear as she embraced me and we drove off together, laughing.

Do yourself a favor: consider your reality now. And then reconsider it – again and again and again until you might see that all that is real around you is love. Love isn’t necessarily flowers or gifts, although those things are great. Love is the being that you are – and in the being of others. It’s everywhere and everything. And when we can all come together in the embodiment of that love, amazing things can happen.

I promise you that if you can view your “now” (reality) in this way again and again and again, you will be that much happier for it.  I know I am. So go ahead and BE some love.  It feels so great.

Despite the odd conditions of the day, I awoke with positivity. I moved through my morning with the intent of making it a peaceful and productive day. But, somehow along the way, I stumbled in my focus and wound up holding a squishy melon. Now, let me explain what I mean by squishy melon.

Every moment, of every day, we have the opportunity to choose how we feel about (and react to) situations. That’s the beauty of being aware: we get to see all situations heading our way, and choose how we feel about them. How we feel about situations is the most important factor in how we deal with them. Remember that: how we feel is how we deal! That said, imagine if our emotions or feelings (joy, anger, love, pain, annoyance, etc.) could manifest themselves into physical forms that hold individual meaning for us. Love might smell like a sweet flower; joy could be a string of glowing lights; fear might reek of sour onions. In my mind, anger is a squishy melon. It’s unstable, overflowing and useless because no one wants to eat it.

On this particular Saturday, I chose to pick up a squishy melon when I allowed my mood to shift from positivity to negativity/anger. How did this happen? Well, it’s quite simple (as nothing is ever really that complicated). I’m a planner, meaning I require (on most days) a full list of things to do, else my mind will tend to wander and I become extremely distracted. I know this about myself and, thus, tend to carefully think through my actions, especially when I am stressed. On this specific day, I chose to not plan, to not focus; instead, I opted to wander through the day and pick up whatever emotion was strongly present in my immediate environment. Sure enough, anger – my squishy melon – was conveniently lying right at my feet as I stumbled around trying to figure out what to do next. So, I picked it up and began to walk around with it, heavy in my hands, throughout the day. The funny thing is: when you are not in alignment with your natural state (which for all us is simply happiness), your inner self (call it ego, consciousness, whatever) will work tirelessly to get rid of whatever false emotion you are grasping. So, naturally, I subconsciously did everything I could to try to get rid of my squishy melon. My modus operandi was to hand it off to someone else. I figuratively tried throwing it at everyone around me by snapping back during conversations or sending ugly glances. It was so crazy. And, what’s more, instinctively, everyone around me could feel the bad vibe I was throwing off and no one wanted to absorb it. By the end of the day, I felt like a sad kid playing alone in her sandbox while the other kids ran off to play together.

It took me the entire day to realize that all I needed to do in order to get rid of the squishy melon was: put it down. That’s it! There was no magic trick to getting rid of my anger; there was no person or thing that was going to alleviate it for me. It was my responsibility; I simply had to put it down. This is a common blunder (I believe) that many of us make. We personally choose to take on emotions and then try to force others to either validate our feeling (“Here, listen to my terrible story of how my day was and then tell me you agree so that I can feel better about my choice to be cranky.”) or alleviate the emotion for us (“How dare you sit there quietly while I am clearly freaking out over this situation? Don’t you care about how I feel? Aren’t you going to make this situation better?!) Think about it, how many times have you chosen to feel a certain way about something and then become angered or frustrated when others around you don’t vibe at the same level as you? Many couples have gone to bed angry and many friendships have soured over situations like this.

Remember: how you feel, is how you deal. Don’t walk around picking up any emotions you don’t want in your life; that will only undermine your authenticity and ruin your stride. Leave the squishy melons where they need to be; choose to pick up some flowers, instead.

Prior to our meeting, I shuffled around my house trying to psyche myself up for the conversation. I felt a pressure and anxiety that I just couldn’t seem to source (i.e. I didn’t allow myself to understand why I felt this way).  To amp myself up, I literally pulled a Jack Donaghy (ala “30 Rock”) and had a “you will rock this meeting today” pep talk in my bathroom mirror as I put on my standard “Don’t fuss with me fellas” red lipstick.  Afterwards, I set out to make an impression of being knowledgeable, serious, committed to my idea and worthy of the upcoming chat.  And, I did just that – but boy did my motives and methods explode right in my face.

I entered this fellow’s office – a bright, airy space with simple but warm décor – and we sat across the table from one another.  I postured myself as I always do in a professional setting – sitting up tall, projecting my voice, smiling (but not too much), legs crossed like a lady and shoulders broad.  We began with him asking me a few questions about my background, my motivations and why I wanted to meet with him.  With each question, I eagerly pounced at the chance to share all my knowledge and career highlights.  After a few moments of my rambling, he calmly and politely asked me, “Why do I feel as though you are auditioning for me?”

My heart fluttered.  Auditioning?  “No,” my internal voice shouted.  “I’m trying to learn from you,” I thought. And then, my aha moment hit me: I was auditioning for him because I lacked—right from the start—the true confidence and motivation that is required to be authentic in anything we do.  I wasn’t seeking a job from this man, I was seeking confirmation from an outside source that I was, in fact, who I said I was.  The truth was: my words were saying “I’m great, I’m awesome, I believe what I’m saying and I KNOW I can move ahead with confidence.”  Meanwhile, my motivations (which, by the way, will ALWAYS shine through when you are conversing with any self-aware person) were pleading, “Please, tell me I’m great, awesome and worthy of your time.”

In that brief moment, something in the air shifted.  I let go and became humbled.  My shoulders relaxed, my tone softened, my passion for the topic shined through. I became more real and, as a result, allowed him to do exactly what I hoped he would do: share his experience with me so that I might learn something.  It was such a simple but dramatic transition.  In that moment he served as my mirror by simply reflecting back to me that which I did not immediately see in myself and then offering me a chance to look again from a different perspective to see what was really going on.

In every moment, every interaction, we have the opportunity to serve as mirrors for others and also to allow others to be our mirrors.  It’s quite simple to do.  Simply shift the focus of the conversation away from whatever egoic agenda you might have.  If you’re at a restaurant ordering coffee, make the interaction about helping the server to do his job better by engaging him.  Ask him about his day; offer him a slightly larger tip.  Suddenly, it’s not about just getting your coffee and moving on about your business; it’s about helping that server to feel great about what he’s offering to the world in that moment.  You’d be amazed at how he may lighten up suddenly, smile at you a bit more easily and serve you the best cup of coffee you’ve had in a while.  The same is true if you’re chatting with a co-worker about a project and you want to be sure that work is evenly divided. Instead of drawing that rigid “I’m not doing more than I must” line in the proverbial sand, remind yourself to stop auditioning for the role you think you need to play in that situation and, alternatively, see it as a chance to bring your true skills to the table and do your best work yet.  Again, watch amazingly as your co-worker lightens up, and take note of how your feelings shift into lightness and confidence about what you can accomplish.

Auditioning requires that you send out your ambassador – the person that you tell yourself you are – rather than the incredible being that is really you.  I ask you, which feels better: constantly wielding a heavy, burdensome battle ax that is your false self or standing open with nothing in your hands and a loving smile on your face?  I’ll choose the loving smile every time; I’ll choose not to audition.

But one of my favorite ways of talking to mom is through notes.  My mother leaves me notes all the time.  She visits my house almost daily while I’m at work and walks the dog (Pinky aka “Monster”) or waters my flowers or leaves me treats like paper towels, fresh fruit or sometimes dinner.  I don’t ask her to do these things; I’m perfectly capable.  Lucy just likes to do them, so I let her.

In the process, she leaves me little notes…all over the place. Through the years, I’ve acquired quite a few of them. Some are so funny or so touching, that I must share them.  They’re not always written in perfect English or with the best penmanship, but my mother has a wonderful sense of humor and a seemingly infinite amount of love to share with everyone.  I admire her for this and I only hope I can share her sense of joy with others.

So…here is my first note from Lucy.

["I was here and ate your cookies. They are very good.  Love you very much mom."]

She left me this note sometime in fall 2010.  I had a box of Girl Scout cookies lying around for weeks and Lucy polished them off one afternoon after walking the dog.  My mother is not one to take things, so this note made me laugh because these cookies must have been pretty damn good for her to scarf them down.  Plus, her matter of fact-ness makes me chuckle…”I ate your cookies”…following subtext should read “and there’s nothing you can do about it.”  It’s okay Lucy, I’ll share my cookies with you.

My instructor, Maria, an incredibly talented and poised woman who has been playing violin all her life, did ensure that lessons were fun and exciting. In the process, though, she also took me down a road that would not only show me how to slow down and learn what it took to master the instrument, but also—in an analogous way—slow down and begin to learn some of what it takes to master life.

Like life, a violin is an incredibly intricate thing—from the many detailed parts of the actual body to the way you approach it and eventually play it. There’s the neck, the bridge, the fingerboard, the strings—and that’s just on the violin itself. Then there’s the bow—which is also intricate, particularly in how you must learn to hold it with a paradoxical combination of control and fluidity. For the first month of lessons, all I learned was how to hold the bow. It was incredibly frustrating because I was ready to play music; I didn’t want to learn how to hold a bow. I just wanted to hear beautiful sounds coming from the slender instrument in my hands. Each week, I showed up hoping that we’d move on to the music—the “good stuff”. But each week, Maria stopped me at the damn bow hold.

Not until I became decently adept at maneuvering the bow, did we move onto actually touching the bow to the strings. And even then, it was a seemingly hopeless cacaphony of scratching or whispering vibrations that came from this beautiful instrument. One day, Maria pointed out to me that I looked angry when I tried to play the strings. “Look at you. You’re tense in the face and hunched in the shoulders,” she commented in her thick Polish accent. “The violin will not let you play it that way. You must learn to relinquish control and be free with it. Then, you will hear the sounds you are looking for.”

Truth be told, I’ve always been a control freak. From organizing (and re-organizing) coupons to attempting to mastermind social situations, I have always needed control to feel powerful. Offer to pick me up? Nope, I’ll drive myself, thank you. Change my route to the doctor’s office? Dear God, I’ll lose my mind. For many years, I was that woman who feared getting overly-inebriated at a party, who always wore lipstick to the grocery store for fear that I would see someone I knew. Hell, I’m still unpublished in the phone book. (Does anyone even look in that thing anymore?) I rarely trusted anything.

But when Maria shared this little gem of wisdom with me—how letting go (and being patient with the process of doing so) was critical to moving ahead—something clicked. Many of us are certain from a young age that we must move quickly throughout life armed with a hefty amount of control (which is really fear all dressed up) in order to protect us and succeed. We—especially in the U.S.—can often be mistrusting of so many things, especially ourselves. We don’t trust ourselves to eat just enough to nurture our bodies, so we undergo drastic surgeries to limit our intake. Our kids fear rampant crayon theft, so parents painstakingly label every crayon in a 48 count box. (I knew a kid in elementary school whose mother did just that!) We are certain that our partners and lovers aren’t being honest, so we research them on online and ask a friend look them up in her legal records database system at work. (Did I just admit that?)

Letting go is quite difficult when you’re so wound up. But letting go is critical to finding any success in life. We all want the killer job, the incredible partner, the amazing kids. And, I believe that we can all attain whatever level we seek; but we must learn to let go of the (fear, shame, doubt, negativity) that we’ve death-gripped for so long. How do you do that? It’s quite simple: just shift your perspective.

Consider where you picked up your fears in the first place. My mother convinced me as a kid that rollercoasters would kill me. My father warned that boys would always speak badly of me if I gave them the time of day. Public service announcements shouted the dangers of forest fires, and science teachers warned of possible explosions in the chemistry lab. DANGER, everywhere! Now, yes, there are legitimate hazards littered throughout life and, yes, you should take heed of some of them. Be sure to floss, wear your seatbelt and don’t eat too much ice cream. But somewhere in the shuffle of trying to always succeed—of trying to play Mozart immediately—we lose our sense of intrigue and trust. Letting go, though, is nothing more than swapping out one concept, feeling or thought for another. Roller coasters can be fun, many boys speak words of kindness and love, a cozy fire in the woods is awesome and mixing chemicals is cool (for some people…I’m simply not that girl). It’s like looking through a kaleidoscope: look once and you see blue diamonds and red squares; twist it just a bit in any direction and you see pink circles and green rectangles.

Now all this is not to say that when you look at something differently, control or fear will immediately subside. A furry spider is still a furry spider when it’s dangling from a thin silk strand six inches from your face. But (as a friend once suggested to me), that same spider isn’t so hideous and harmful when you give him a name (like Vinnie, maybe) and think of him as a new friend who’s just gotten lost on his way home. Yes, I am oversimplifying to make a point, but the concept is the same no matter the situation: shift your thought or perception of something that freaks you out and change will occur.

In the case of my violin lessons—after many months of learning to pluck and play, I was forced to take a break. While I was sad to give up my newfound challenge, I learned some skills and truths that have undoubtedly changed me for the better: I can now play “Happy Birthday” on a violin, and I can now (unashamedly) sing “Happy Birthday” at a friend’s party with a big drunken smile while wearing next to no lipstick. Funny how that happens…

An Indian man with prominent eyes and thick silver hair entered the studio.  With a warm smile, he extended his hand to greet me and I thought, “This guy’s not so bad.” He sat in the interview chair and we proceeded; me off-camera asking him questions; him on-camera sharing stories from key moments in his career.  He proceeded to share a story about how he managed—when he first became president of the board of directors—to gain the trust of his newly acquired 400+ employees in our U.S. office.  He shared how it took months for everyone in the building to come around to believing that he was a genuine leader with integrity.

I was so enthralled with his story.  I believed this man; I trusted him.  Six months later, he sold our company to our biggest competitor in a veiled, back-office deal.  When I heard the news, I thought “Son of a…!”

In that moment, I was stunned, doomed, devastated and panicked.  My boss and I had been traveling back to our upstate New York office from a very successful video session with leaders in California.  We stood near the entrance of the airport security line, quietly hugging and weeping.  It was all we could do to keep from bursting.

The following days were nearly unbearable.  I felt a tremendous pressure, an emotional and physical weight that was so heavy that I literally had to lie down.  And that’s exactly what I did for two days.

Day one: Saturday:  Lied in bed all day today.  Found a half-pint of ice cream in the freezer.  Ate that.  Took a sleeping pill.  Watched re-runs.

Day two:  Sunday:  Slept in late. Opened one curtain.  Too bright; closed it.  Went to breakfast. Back home to bed.

But the weight ever so gradually lifted.  By Monday, I “got it together” enough to go to the office.  And oh, it was a dreadful place.  In the post-acquisition atmosphere, voices whispered in corners.  Heavy sighs could be heard behind office cubes.  Colleagues skulked around senior leader’s office doors waiting to hear some shred of information.  It was all so ugly and the weight of waiting to hear what was going to happen next, who was going to be let go and who might stay with the company was palpable.

In these moments, I recalled interviewing a leader at American Airlines who shared what he learned about his first 100 days in a new position.  He had acquired a new team in a not-so-smooth acquisition and was eager to make decisions and take action so as to demonstrate his speed, agility and power.  He soon learned that it was more important to know what you don’t know and to wait to make any sudden moves.  He waited three months to become better acquainted with his new team and learn what they might do for him, rather than what he might take from them to help his proverbial bottom line.

In our case, we had hoped that our new leadership might follow the same strategy. Instead, they moved rapidly and aggressively to absorb as much information about our team as possible.  All the while, they shared little with us about the state of affairs or how long we could expect to stay—if at all—with the new company.  And so, the rumors began baking, like fresh loaves of bread hot from the oven every ten minutes.  Work life carried on this way for a time.  Rumor, truth.  Rumor, half-truth. Undeniably, the new company could have done a better job at communicating realities. However, perhaps it was us – the scared, aggravated acquired team—that needed to stop focusing on the maybes and start owning what we knew.

Life is like that, ya know.  If you dread something, guess what shows up at your front door.  If you believe—truly believe—in the power that you have as an individual to create your own future, regardless of where you work or what you do, guess what comes knocking: good fortune and opportunity.

In the end, I was laid off (after painful weeks of dreading the unknown).  However—as the old adage points to—that door closed and numerous other windows have opened.  I am grateful. I am creating. And opportunity is knocking.  What a lovely sound.

I should point out that I have a very broad—and some would say—developed food palate.  I’m down to grub–and typically do–anything from a rare alligator sausage to Spaghettios (with fake meatballs only, please).  It slays me a bit when people drone on and on trying to compare the taste of one thing to something completely unrelated.  It also bores me when people rave about the freshness of food.  They’ll come from the latest restaurant singing the praises of the menu.  “Everything was so fresh and bright,” they scream.  What the hell does that mean?  Was the last salad for which they paid not fresh?  Was it obviously old or rancid?  If so, why the hell did they pay for it – much less eat it?

Now there’s even a magazine for these people; it’s called “Clean Eating”.  As opposed to what…dirty eating?  There is something to be said for getting back to the realities of the taste and origins of our food.  Apples don’t always grow perfectly round and red; baby carrots aren’t really baby carrots (they’re actually shaved and tumbled bits from the reject pile) and yes – cheese is a big pile of delicious mold!  It’s perfectly okay to admit that you like tuna from the can or that you’ll only eat romaine lettuce, not radicchio.

Let’s all start being honest about our food.  Let’s leave the taste sales speeches to the marketing gods at Nabisco and the executive chefs across the world.  Let’s love our food for exactly what it is.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a piping hot bowl of shells and crème de frommage to enjoy.  Bon apetit.