A Text Changes My Life

I'm excited.

I have spent years building something one tiny step at a time. It started with my Etsy jewelry business, then this blog, then Crying Out Now, then The Bubble Hour, then Two Little Birds Studio.

So, I'm busy.

But I don't notice. I'm so passionate about all these endeavors - the art of creating is my meditation, my escape, and it fuels my soul.  Breaking down the stigma of alcoholism, particularly as it relates to women, bit by bit, gives me a sense of purposeful determination.   I do all of these things because I love them, and I have always followed the adage "do what you love and the money will follow".

There's a hitch, though. My Heart Projects are so interwoven into my life I can't imagine life without them - they are almost like children to me. They have brought so many incredible people into my life, such amazing community, that I could never put a price on what they mean to me.  I'm rich with friendship.  In the friendship category, I'm a badzillionaire, and I know how lucky I am.  But they don't make money.

My jewelry business has far surpassed anything I could have imagined, but in order to grow that business I would have to have a massive paradigm change: hire people to work for me, open a retail store, slog around to home parties - something - if that business is going to contribute meaningfully to our household income.  I like it the way it is, though.  It's mine, it's from my heart, and I don't want to change it. And I don't want to stop making jewelry.

Shining Strong - the umbrella organization for all my recovery sites - is coming along. I'm incorporating it as a non-profit, and hope to get 501(c)3 status by the end of the year.  It's my dream to have that be a self-sustaining organization, its mission is to break down the darkness and denial that surrounds addiction, and it's growing by leaps and bounds, in large part thanks to you - my readers - who help by spreading the word and donating. THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all your tweets, posts and donations.  Because of you Shining Strong will live another six months.

But it was never supposed to make money, either.

I found myself in a quandary.  My jewelry business has peaked - I work hard at this business because I LOVE it, but it's not going to be a major financial contributor to our income unless I make major changes I'm not willing to make.  My recovery projects fuel me, give me purpose and community - but they are never going to be money makers, either.

My kids are in school full time, and my days are full.  BUT. And this is a big one - I need to earn more money. I did my taxes recently, and was so depressed to see how little I'm actually earning with the jewelry.  I work way too hard to make that little, I thought.  But it was never about money, was my next immediate thought. A pause, and then reality crashed through:  but now it needs to be. You can't continue like this. 

I was really down, because I was fearful I was going to have to give some, or all, of these projects up and get a "real" job.

I don't even know how to have a 'real' job anymore, because I've spent so much time being purpose driven.  I'm smart. I know if I applied myself I could go back to the corporate world, where I logged so many hours in my previous life. I'm good at it. I made a lot of money doing it.  I was miserable.

I was mulling all this over on my way to yoga last week, when my phone beeped with a text. It was my friend, Jen, who I was supposed to meet for coffee that morning but somehow never got into my calendar.  I drove into a Target parking lot and thought hard. I knew why she wanted to meet with me - she is an Arbonne consultant and I knew she wanted to ask me to sign on (officially - I'd been an unofficial consultant for months just to get the products at the consultant's discount) to sell Arbonne.

I stared at the text for a solid minute, and had my thumb hovering over the keys to tell her I couldn't meet her because I had yoga.  I don't have time to sell Arbonne, I thought. Even though I adore the product, I just don't have the time.  We had already rescheduled our coffee date three times, and I was starting to text sorry, can't make it, yoga ... when something stirred in my gut.

GO, that something said.

So I typed "on my way" instead, pulled out of the Target parking lot and went left to coffee instead of right to yoga.

That one little decision has already changed my life, and it was only one week ago.

I love it when the universe chucks you one, burrows down into your gut and whispers: stay open.

Over that two hour coffee date Jen explained all the reasons Arbonne does fit, for me.  It is a natural extension of what I'm already all about: self-care, building businesses, interacting with people, sharing things that have changed me for the better because I believe in them.  Not because I want to make money.

"I can't sell something just to make money," I told her. She smiled. That's okay, she said. Do as little or as much as you want. You're already telling everyone you know about Arbonne, why not make it official?

"I won't do parties," I said.

She smiled again.  That's okay, too.  Find whatever way works for you.

"I'm not sales-y," I said.   Thank goodness, was her reply.  You can't cram anything down someone's throat. Just keep doing what you're doing - tell your story, about how it's changed your skin, your health, and see what happens.

"I don't have time," I said.  Well, why not give it a try? she said. If it doesn't work out you can stay a consultant and get your favorite product at a discount. What do you have to lose? 

As I drove home from our coffee date I thought about what Jen said and the Universe's message to me:  stay open. And, while the Universe was on a roll, it said: what's wrong with making money? It will allow you to keep your Heart Projects going, and then some.

So here I am, writing about it, because since that coffee date I feel alive again. I've already earned more in this week than I usually do in a month of jewelry making, and I haven't had to sell anyone anything. Jen was right - I'm out there talking about it anyway, and people are interested in what I've learned.  I'm a story teller, not a salesperson, and that's totally okay. More than okay.

Arbonne rolls right into everything I've been building.  Cancer taught me so much about the scary chemicals we put on our faces bodies every day in make-up and skin care products.  I shudder to think of what my kids had been putting on their bodies. There are so many known carcinogens out there in everything we use, and the public doesn't hear enough about it.  In Europe the standards are MUCH more stringent. It makes me mad.

Because we're so uneducated about this stuff, we don't give these chemicals a moment's thought. I think about the gallons of lipstick (I've always been mad for lipstick) I have ingested over the years. And I ended up with cancer in my throat.  Even if they aren't causally related - I'll never know - I've changed our lifestyle - no more aluminum, no more sodium lauryl sulfate in this household (SLS is known to be one of the most dangerous chemicals in health care products and it's everywhere).  No more anything harsh or harmful.

Most importantly?  Being healthy and taking care of my skin and body makes me feel good.  I have spent years writing about how women struggle with self-esteem, self-confidence, self-love -- and how these issues feed addiction like gasoline feeds a fire.   Learning to put myself first was a years-long battle.  Arbonne fits right into that - I look better, I feel great, and I want to tell people that they deserve this.

The upside earning potential in Arbonne is mind-blowing. I don't know if I'll get that far. I'm not really thinking about it.  Just like with everything else, I'm taking it one step at a time.

And I'm writing about it. This won't become a "please buy Arbonne website".  I won't peddle product here.  But I may write about how it's changing my life, now and again.  If this much can happen in one week, it makes me very excited for the future.

And I gotta say  it - if you want to learn more?  Email me at ellieandsteve@verizon.net.  I won't sales you to death. I won't pressure you to do a thing.

I'll just share my story, like I always do.

Why It's Hard, And Why It Isn't

Thank you, everyone, for your supportive, compassionate and encouraging comments on my post yesterday.

Even though I believe so strongly that in order to combat the stigma of alcoholism we need to chip away at it through the power of truth, story and example, clicking "publish" on that one was the hardest thing I've done on this blog.

I'm not immune to thoughts of insecurity as it pertains to the stigma.  I made the choice to be open about my addiction and recovery, and I did it knowing that if I was going to be honest, it had to be all the way, even if I relapsed one day.

Far easier to have the ideological thought in my head than to face the reality.  I knew that I didn't have to be public about it until I was ready, and I wanted to use this as an excuse to perhaps never write about it.  I admit I didn't want to, that I fought it, and it took the prompting of people who know me well to open my heart and mind up to the idea that I could write about it someday.  I just thought that someday was going to be further off.  I woke up yesterday morning and knew it was the day, for reasons I don't have to understand.

The comments you leave supporting me help countless others who are reading, and seeing firsthand that it IS possible to get help and encouragement if you're honest first to yourself (this can be the hardest part) and then to others. It's the community that supports me on days I don't think I'm going to make it. It's the community that welcomed me back from my fall, and if I didn't have that community to go back to, clear my slate and my conscience with the truth, I don't know that I would have made it.

The stigma is still out there, strong as ever. After a hard post like that, I have to put my chin up and go out and do my normal activities and try not to wonder who has read it, whether or not they are judging me. Recovery starts from the inside out; if I let other people's opinions of me control how I feel about myself, it will lead me right back to the darkness.

Then yesterday, the news story of the man who was duct taped by fellow plane passengers to his chair because he was drunk and disorderly (click on the link to read one of the stories) broke with this viral picture:

He was, apparently, drinking the duty free alcohol he bought after passing through security, the seat back pocket in front of him full of nips. After four hours, he because violent, disorderly and threatening.   The picture above is the result.

Passengers declined to comment about the incident after disembarking, and so no charges will be made against the man (who is named in several news articles).

The thing is? I identify with this man.  The only difference between him and me is circumstance.  When I was active, this could have happened to me (I actually had the thought that getting your booze in the duty free shop was pretty clever... other alcoholics in recovery (and out of it) will have had this thought, too, when they read the story).  This is what an untreated alcoholic look like.  Most untreated alcoholics suffer silently in their homes or on bar stools, and when something "juicy" like this happens, and the hurtful comments start, all the silent sufferers go a little more quiet.

I don't know where to begin, really.  What would I have done if I were on that plane?  If I had witnessed this?  I don't know.  Mob mentality is a scary thing.  I do wonder about the people who were supposed to be in charge, what the rules are, etc.  But I wasn't there and I'll never know.

Reading this story in several news sources, something scares me more than the way this man was treated.  The comments about "drunks", "booze hounds" and "getting what he deserved".  There was even one police authority who was quoted in a reputable news source as calling the man a "typical drunk".

Alcoholism is a disease, and its primary symptoms are behavioral.  I'm not saying we excuse the behavior - there have to be consequences - but I long for the day when the mob mentality doesn't collectively rub its gleeful hands together and lump all drunks into one big horrible stereotype.  It's no better than any other form of bullying or racism.

I see a sick man who needs a lot of help in this picture. I see the system built to protect unruly passengers from themselves and each other failing.  I see people putting him down to feel better about themselves.

It all makes me sad, and it's why hitting publish is hard.

There is so much hope, though. Hope through your comments, through the supportive community evolving at Crying Out Now and the Booze Free Brigade.  Through the brave stories women are telling on The Bubble Hour.  These are all shining examples of people busting through the shame to help themselves heal, and to show others that the stereotype is wrong, that alcoholism can strike anyone.

Through the power of story and identification, we can help people who have never been touched by alcoholism - directly or indirectly - understand this disease, humanize it, put real people behind it.

This is why I'll always hit "publish".  This is why your comments are so important. You are on the front line of helping people get past the stigma and shame and get help.

Thank you.

Two Little Birds

I know it's starting to feel like every time I post these days I'm announcing something new.

I'm excited to announce the grand opening of my new online store, Two Little Birds Studio, named (of course) after my own two little birds, Greta and Finn.  I created this store because it provides a better platform for me to sell hand-stamped, fully customizable pieces that celebrate the simple joys of life, provide comfort during difficult times, or celebrate recovery from illness or addiction.

Click here to go to the site!

To celebrate the grand opening I'm offering a 15% sale (and free shipping!) for the month of January - but to find out how to take advantage of this sale, you need to be a newsletter subscriber!  If you're not already a subscriber, look for the sign-up form on the right hand sidebar, enter your email, and I'll send the information along to you!

You can find Two Little Birds Studio on Facebook by clicking here; I'd be very grateful if you followed me there, and it's the best place to hear about new products and special promotions.  I'll be announcing many new products over the coming weeks!  I also have a Twitter page where you can follow Two Little Birds by clicking here!

I appreciate all the support you guys offer me with all my new endeavors.  I'm having the time of my life building these new sites, and forming a grand plan that ties them all together to support my main passion of helping break the stigma and denial that surround addiction and build communities of support for women who are struggling with drinking.  Hopefully, there will be more information on these plans in the weeks to come.

If you could help me spread the word about Two Little Birds I would greatly appreciate it!

And a BIG thank you to the amazing Shauna who built the Two Little Birds Studio site for me, responded faster than the speed of lightening and is an overall awesome person.  If you need a professional, fun, talented person to build a website for you, she's your woman!

Thank you!

Cafeteria Girl

I had a public snit fit on Facebook last night.

My finger hovered over "publish comment" for a good 30 seconds before I pressed on it with my eyes closed.  I decided to hit the button, because I didn't think I was the only one who felt this way, and it was embarrassing to admit, but I just had to know what people thought.

Here's what I (wince) said:

I am being ridiculously needy and superficial and immature about this, I know I am, but if I get two comments on a blog post these days it's a lot. I used to get dozens. Am I boring now? Am I asking for too much help with my projects? You can PM me if you want to give feedback that you don't want to put out there in public. It's been going on for a while now, and I have to admit (though I'm embarrassed to do so) that it's making me insecure.

 I have to watch the line of ego, attention seeking and people pleasing really closely, examine my motives for blogging, etc. - because those bugaboos are traps in my sobriety.  I worked hard to get beyond (mostly) what people think, to stay focused on the mission or writing for myself, from the inside, regardless of the response.

Sometimes I do a really good job of that. Other times, like last night?  Not so much.

Of course I received comments empathizing with how I felt, and offering suggestions, like people use FB as ways of giving feedback now, people read but don't comment as much, people read through their Google reader and it's hard to leave comments.  All polite ways to put me in my place:  it's SO not about you, Ellie.

I think I'm overly sensitive these days because of the new endeavors like The Bubble Hour and Shining Strong are SO important, and I'm an alcoholic and instant gratification takes TOO LONG and I want THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD to respond instantly.

That is something I have to watch closely, because in that impatience lies a drink for me. If I'm seeking validation from the outside in (as a friend gently PM'd me last night- you know who you are and thank you) - I'm looking in the wrong place and I'll never be satisfied.

But sometimes? I still feel like that girl holding her tray in the cafeteria and looking around for a place to sit without looking like she's looking around for a place to sit.  I'm human.

I do believe in the mission of Shining Strong, The Bubble Hour and Crying Out Now from the bottom of my heart - and that is driven from the inside out. It's in my DNA, because it's how my parents raised me.  So I take comfort in that, and try to forgive myself for my occasional snit-fits.  The response has been amazing, and I'm SO grateful to all of you who have liked my page(s) and left testimonials and sent me encouraging words.

Sometimes? This is what it's like dealing with an addict.  We can never get enough.

Last night I meditated and prayed on this, and at the end my heart felt so full.  I have enough.  I am enough. And it will be what it will be.  I was all brave talk a few posts ago about being okay with trying and failing, but not being okay with not trying.  And I feel in my heart that this is true.

I just have to keep an eye out for those bugaboos, and I have to plunk my cafeteria tray down wherever I damn well please and not be scared of acceptance.

On a logistical note?  If you want to be sure you get all the updates from Facebook (where I think most people hear about posts) for Crying Out Now, One Crafty Mother, The Bubble Hour or Shining Strong it's not enough to "like" the page anymore.  I found this out last night - you also have to go to each page and look for the "tool" icon (little wheel - next to the "Likes" box) and select "Add to Interests".  Then you'll get all the updates, if you want to.  Thanks, Facebook, for making things so complicated and making me have to come make more self-serving comments that make me itchy.

Bottom line, I guess, is that we never really shake Cafeteria Girl, do we?  But we can keep moving bravely forward, tell our truth, empathize with each other instead of being embarrassed about our truths and stick together.

You guys are all at my lunch table, and I thank you for it.  Truly.

Shining Strong - Working Towards My Dream

Of course it is probably premature to talk about this.

Of course I'm going to anyway.

My father (who died suddenly in June of 2011) brought me up to always try to give back to any community I serve, as he did for those he served (and they were plentiful).

I've written about my creative explosion, the coming together of several creative projects that I realized recently will always share a common goal, whether it is a website (like Crying Out Now) or an internet talk show/podcast (like the Bubble Hour) or even One Crafty Mother, or an income producing businesses like Shining Stones, the soon-to-be launched Two Little Birds Studio, and my book Let Me Get This Straight.

The mission of all these endeavors is to provide support, community, resources and comfort to women struggling with addiction or alcoholism, or simply looking for a safe place to explore their drinking, or to provide income to support these endeavors.

So I created a new website/organization with the goal of creating a not-for-profit that will be the umbrella organizations to all the endeavors.

I did a lot of soul searching when I was laid up with cancer; I had a lot of time to think.  As I've written about recently, it gave me this overpowering feeling to do something with my life, and not to aggressively wait for it to come to me, to take action, do my best and be ready for ANY outcome.

I can only do the next right thing, get advice from loved ones and professionals (which I'm doing) and hope that this dream will become a reality. I know it may not work, and I know it's a heart-dream because I'm okay with trying and failing with this project WAY more than I'm okay with not trying at all.

I've been afraid to start plenty of new ventures for fear of failing, but not this one.

There will be way more to come about Shining Strong, and it will take months to get all the pieces in place.  But I can get the footprint out there on the internet, get the infrastructure in place so if and when it becomes and official non-profit I am ready to go.

I'd be honored if you'd check out the brand spanking new website here, (be kind, grammarians, spell-checkers and designers .. it is in its infancy and is only barely ready for viewing).

I also created a new facebook page, and if you'd come "like" it, it would make me really happy.  :)  If you're up to it, it would be awesome if you'd follow the brand-new Twitter Page, too.  It's very lonely there at the moment.

I dedicate all of this in honor of the legacy of my father, who instilled in me - with my mother right beside him, doing the same, only I'm lucky enough that she is still here, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with me and cheering me on - the importance of giving back, especially when someone has given freely of themselves to you, like the women (and men) in my recovery community do for me every day.

I love you, Dad.  I hope you're up there smiling.

Turret Thinking, A Health Scare and A Message (or two) From The Universe

I appear to be in the midst of a creative explosion.

Back in the late summer, I told myself (and some recovery friends, and my yoga instructor) that I was going to focus on self-care in the fall.  I was still healing physically from the cancer treatments, but feeling better every day.

I joked and said I was going to postpone my world domination plans until after the first of the year, at least.

I made it until about late October, and then my creative brain went a little nuts. In mostly a good way, but it's got me wondering where is this all coming from?   I don't say this in a braggy way (because I'm not sure it's something to brag about anyway) but in the past few months I have launched a new internet talk show/website/twitter page, published a book, sold a record amount of jewelry with the revamping of my newsletter with more attention to marketing, and hired a web designer for a last, bigger project I'm not announcing until January or February.

Some of my close friends, who know me well, have called me on this whatever-it-is I'm doing thing. It's a bit manic, and I freely admit that.  The thing is, I'm happy.  I definitely get overwhelmed, but I've asked for help with my creative babies (and am SO grateful to get it from so many lovely, compassionate, creative people) so at least I'm not doing all this alone anymore.

Then I was meditating the other day and it came to me - I knew where this creative explosion was coming from.

I spent six months incapacitated by cancer, unable to do much but think and sleep.  And think I did.   I thought about what really matters; a life threatening illness will do that to you.  Of course family came out right at the top of the list.

But another phenomenon happened as well.  I've always had a crazy creative brain.  Heather and I call it our monkey brain.  Having a shortage of monkeys (ideas) has never been a problem for me.  I was only happiest when I was madly chasing a dream or a new idea or building something online or talking to someone about building something online.

Basically, I was running from the drudgery of real life. Endless amounts of laundry, dinners, homework, baths, packing lunches, cleaning.  Letting my monkeys run wild was my escape - the antidote to my self-inflicted "I'm more than just a Mom" syndrome.

I was running from.  Not towards.

What cancer did - or rather what that forced stop did - was cause me to re-evaluate where I spend my time, even my mental time, because suddenly that was a lot more precious than it used to be.

As I emerged from my illness, began to physically feel better, I realized I have a mission.  I've had it all along, but it has been scattered.  I said at a round-table discussion recently, "I like to build my castles from the turret down. Turrets are pretty and everyone looks at them and I like that. Then I get to the last brick at the foundation and find out I'm building on a swamp".  I'm impulsive, and I like starting at the most interesting (and, let's admit it) noticeable part.

I've always had a mission - help people (especially women and mothers) who struggle with addiction and/or recovery feel less alone.  My mission is not to run around getting people sober.  My mission is to throw the doors of the stigma and darkness and secrecy and ignorance surrounding the disease of addiction WIDE OPEN.

This creative explosion is because I know what I want, now. I know why I'm doing it. Even the jewelry is tied to my mission.  It all folds back in on itself, and I'm getting advice (new anti-turret behavior!) on pulling my mission together into something even tighter, more meaningful and structuring it in a way that it can reach even more ears.

I'm running towards, and it feels really good.

And then yesterday I had a scare.  At the risk of sharing too much information, I woke up yesterday morning with a mouth full of blood, and it wouldn't stop bleeding. I didn't know where it was coming from. It was terrifying.  As luck (HA! I don't believe in luck any more) would have it I already had a radiologist check-up scheduled for that day. I wasn't going to go, though, because I'm to busy and was feeling so great.

Sometimes the Universe whispers to you, and sometimes it SCREAMS.  I looked heavenward, through my fear, and said "point taken".  I should never, ever be too busy to take care of myself. I was feeling so good, so far away from Cancer Land, so distracted from how recently I finished treatments.

Suddenly there I was slammed back into Cancer Land - full of fear and awfulizing thoughts and "shoulding" all over myself. I should be beyond this fear, I should be able to handle this better, etc.

I took a deep breath, called/emailed and texted some sober friends and told them where I was headed, what was going on, and got them lined up in case I got bad news. I can't be left alone with bad news.

I headed into the Radiology Department at Mass General Hospital, full of fear, spitting blood into tissues.  Why now? I thought to myself, playing the victim. Things are going so well. 

For some reason you always wait at least an hour for a scheduled appointment,which doesn't do much for rising panic and fear. My phone was buzzing away with encouraging updates from friends, which helped so much, but finally I turned the phone off, centered myself, and meditated.  Me. Meditating in a cancer ward.  I never, ever thought THAT day would come.

I sat with the center of myself for a while, counting my breaths and listening to my strong heartbeat, when suddenly I heard the first jingling bars of beautiful guitar music.  I opened my eyes to see a woman playing the guitar and singing with a circle of children with cancer - all full of smiles and clapping along to the beat.

Perspective? Firmly in place.

My appointment was fine. I'm okay. They think the blood is from dry air/sinuses, and when they scoped my throat, they said "it looks fantastic".  I have a lot to be grateful for.

I drove home thinking, hard, about how lucky I am to have found the thing I want to do with my life, for as long as I can afford to do it.  Cancer gave me this gift. I don't know if I have a day or sixty years, but I intend to make the most of whatever time I have left.

The other lucky (HA!) things? That afternoon I had both my cancer support group and a recovery meeting to go to.  I dumped all this out to people who understand, and felt a million times better. Sometimes the Universe Screams, but sometimes it Pats You On The Back, too.

I have a lot of work to do, some dismantling of turrets and some laying of foundations on solid ground, but I'm excited.  I can feel in my bones that it's going somewhere good - and I don't mean wild financial success or millions of people staring at my turret.  I mean my purpose, my heart song, the footprint I'm meant to leave in this world.  As long as I can focus on balance, self-care and support, I will be okay.

Knowing my mission in life, being so certain it's why I'm here, is so freeing. Even though I'm busier than I've ever been, I'm calm (usually - I have my moments as I recently posted about,, I guess I should say I'm existentially calm). I'm purposeful. I'm focused. I'm able to follow my mission and spend time with my kids because those other monkeys that don't fit in my life aren't there anymore.

It may sound odd to some of you - I was telling a friend all this recently and she said, "Well, DUH!  I think you may be the last person to see this, you know."

But she doesn't understand how many monkeys have gone silent, and how many I've let run free. If the monkey doesn't fit my mission - even if I think it's a really good idea - I'm letting the monkey go.  That's HARD for someone like me.

I am still trying to prioritize self-care. I go to yoga, my cancer group meetings, my recovery meetings.  I'm still searching for that elusive balance, but because I'm on a heart mission it all feels like part of my balance.

And I have NO idea where it's going. I'm not planning that part - that's turret thinking.

I'm opening my heart (not my monkey mind) to the messages the Universe sends me (or hurls at my head, depending on how much I'm really paying attention).

I'm just laying the next brick, as carefully I can and with lots of help. advice and more than a little prayer.

I can't wait to see how the castle will turn out.