Live a Powerful Life

Living in the Unfolding of Now

2011-04-10T10:51:00.005-05:00

I do my best to live in the moment that is in front of me—to appreciate what is before me.

Most challenging are the times I find myself delayed at an airport, trapped in a conversation that I don’t want to have, or wanting to be doing something else.

I believe a disconnect occurs when we have a future orientation. Yes, I understand the future orientation intimately. I lived there for many, many years.

I’m questioning, now, if I still do? I’m not quite sure how to separate what’s happening now and knowing that something fun and exciting is on the horizon that I can’t stop thinking about.

I do believe there is a difference between disassociating where you are in the moment versus being hopeful or interested in a future event.

I do work hard to give the people in my life, at a particular moment, my undivided attention and focus.

This brings to mind the cocktail party setting—where you see the person surveying the room looking for the better deal. But even the best of us more than likely struggle when finding ourselves in a similar situation stuck talking to the person who is boring us to tears when we see someone else who would make us laugh or feel better.

Just the other day, I was presenting to a group of students. I was enjoying the moment, but happened to look at the clock. “Oh dear, I need to finish this so I can go do what I really want to do.” I had a schedule. I needed to leave and any delay would interfere with my fun. These are the times I attempt to reign the future back in and return to present moment living. Sometimes I am successful and sometimes I am not.

As mentioned before, my most challenging times are those airport delay situations and similar. I really hate not being in control of what I am doing and when. I know…doesn’t sound like the best candidate for present moment living. I have, though, gotten better. So much better in fact, that not too long ago, I received an email from an airline carrier apologizing for inconveniencing me. I didn’t have a clue what they were talking about. Although, if they had delayed me overnight or something—I most certainly would have known.

Maybe just trying to live in the moment is a major step forward. So for now, I will continue to do my best. I will continue to not beat myself over it when I can’t seem to go there. Yep, l have much practice to do.

On the same theme...below is one of my favorite articles on the subject (2009).

New Year's Resolution: To Be More Present

This year I decided on the perfect resolution: to live happily in the moment no matter the circumstances.

The resolution was so perfect I had already begun speaking about it in presentations. Living in the moment can be hard to do—think holiday travelers stranded at airports and train stations. Most of us relive the past or pine for a better future. I didn’t even understand the concept until I was in my 40s, and I was going to make sure 2009 was going to be the year when I focused on the present.

That is, until my daughter Addy took the dog-sitting job, which required me to be the designated driver.

“Let’s sit in the hot tub tonight,” Addy said. The doggy momma owned a fancy hot tub, which she had offered to us.

“Good idea!” I said. It was blustery and cold. Soaking in the hot tub sounded like fun.

We arrived at 6:30 p.m., checked on the dog, put our belongings on the kitchen counter and then went outside to the tub. As I was about to step in, I realized I still had the thank-you-for-my-Christmas-present note I had meant to leave inside.

Addy jumped into the hot tub as I headed for the backdoor. I turned the knob. It didn’t turn. The door was locked. “It’s still 2008,” I yelped at the intractable door. I wasn’t ready to face my new resolution yet, but what choice did I have. Plus, I had an impressionable witness.

And there I stood clad only in my swimming suit in 28-degree weather with our shoes, coats and my car keys locked securely in the house.

Fortunately I also had my cell phone. I could have called someone to pick us up, but I had left my spare house key in my own house. My friends who did have a key to my house were out of town.

I tried calling my hot tub friend, but I knew her plane wasn’t arriving until 8:20 p.m., if it did arrive on time in this time of many travel delays. I called my husband who was on his way home from an out-of-town trip. He wouldn’t make it for three more frigid hours.

Don’t tell my friend, but I thought about breaking down her door, but that solution didn’t appeal to Addy or me. We couldn’t think of anyone else to call. Who wants to be at someone else’s house in their swimming suits for three hours, even when the temperature is more favorable?

There was only one thing we could do. We threw up our hands.

At this point Addy said. “Okay, Mom. Let’s just enjoy the moment.” We had been talking about this lesson for some time now, and in the cold, in the dark, part of me was thrilled to know Addy had been listening to our discussions.

“You’re right, Addy,” I said, trying to set a good example while the idea of not knowing how long the hot tub ordeal would last unnerved me.

It was 8:20 when doggy friend texted me the number of the next-door-neighbor, who did have a spare key and after a good laugh came to our rescue. We had plenty of hot tub time, a good story for the retelling, and lots of practice of living happily in the moment. I have to admit I need lots more practice, which makes this 2009 resolution just right for me.

http://www.liveapowerfullife.com/
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Not Barbie, Not Married to Ken...

2011-01-22T22:08:00.004-06:00

But Something Much Better: ME

It was something Monique Marvez, author of Not Skinny, Not Blonde, said that got me going on this Not Barbie: Not Married to Ken kick.

It was so true. Just like Monique, I always wanted to be skinny. I always wanted to be blonde.

The real truth: I always wanted to be Barbie! Barbie had it all. She was beautiful, skinny, blonde and rich. She had a great house, great clothes, great car and always attended fabulous parties—at the beach, at the hotel.

And I’m sure I’m not the ONLY girl who had this dream.

But even better…Barbie had Ken. Ken. Ken the most handsome doll in all the land. I can’t tell you how many times Ken and I walked down the aisle in my imagination. I spent hours envisioning life with a perfect husband like Ken. There had to be a picket fence and 2.5 kids somewhere in that picture.

And then it happened. Being Barbie and Ken didn’t seem idyllic anymore. Barbie and Ken broke up. The break-up happened right before Valentine’s Day (can you imagine) in 2004. Supposedly Barbie—the most admired doll in the world—did the dumping (at least according to the AP wire). The two had been a pair for 43 years and without warning they were kaput, splitsville, finished.

A Mattel spokesperson told reporters, “They had grown apart." "Needed some time alone." "Were going their separate ways." "They would remain friends."

I couldn’t believe the news. Barbie. Ken. The end. But those two had ridden off into the sunset in their pink convertible. Not Barbie and Ken. No.

To make matters worse within a few months Barbie hooked up with a boy-toy surfer dude named Blaine.

I’m not sure who started the gay rumor. Poor Ken.

But reportedly, Ken took it like a doll—er man.

Instead of lashing out or seeking revenge, he sought to improve himself.

In 2006 (again I totally missed this announcement) the new Ken stepped out at a Manhattan news conference. The AP wire buzzed again, “The new and improved Ken sported a more rugged jaw line, wore cargo pants and listened to Norah Jones.”

Some reporter mentioned Barbie’s ex now rode a motorcycle while another claimed that Ken “dabbles in Buddhism.” Yet another reporter told her viewers the doll had taken cooking lessons and might help in the kitchen. But there was more. Ken, no longer content with being perfect, regularly worked out. Ken Doll returned to the scene buffed. Ken was now toting a six-pack.

Yet Barbie still hasn’t taken him back. She even tweated about it. “For the hundredth time, I promise I'm not with Ken! I'm very much single and actually talking to a new boy right now...”

What appeared to be a match made in heaven—two perfect people living two perfect lives—is all pretend. Finally I have seen the light.

Forget it Barbie. You may be beautiful, skinny, blonde and rich, but now I see who you really are—fake, fickle and hungry. No thank you. And Ken, sweet adorable Ken. I no longer pine for you, for what women in her right mind wants to be with a doll more beautiful than she? Oh yes. I now regularly shout my new mantra, “I am not Barbie and not married to Ken.”

Allyn Evans
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www.liveapowerfullife.com

2011-01-11T14:33:00.002-06:00

I decided to re-publish one of my favorites. Enjoy.

Hocus Pocus. Abracadabra. Remind you a little of Practical Magic? Witchcraft. Trouble. Fire burn and cauldron bubble. Forgive the drama, but unfortunately it’s true. Spells exist. Big spells. Little spells. We live in a world where spells are cast and someone falls prey.

You are probably right now under the influence of more than one spell.

Take a breath—it’s not life threatening. But it is serious. According to Caroline Myss a spell is a mental lock-in. She explained to her Hay House radio listening audience: “What if someone says, ‘You look terrible today?’ You accept the spell. Voilà. You feel terrible all day.”

Mrs. Middleton taught me speech and typing in high school. One day I wore a black t-shirt with jeans to school. She pulled me aside. “Allyn, I must tell you. You look sick when you wear black. Never wear black near your face.” Do I wear black against my face now? Do I have to tell you the answer to that question?

A spell is like a superstition:
“I can’t lose weight.”
“I can’t succeed.”
“I’m stupid.”

Here’s the deal. You have locked into a false belief. FALSE. A superstition. Did a black cat just walk underneath the ladder? Did you break a mirror? You now have seven years of bad luck.

I cringed as I listened to Caroline. Thinking I don’t look good in black. Spell. Believing women over 40 can’t lose weight. Spell.

Here’s what is not a spell: I am five feet, three inches tall. Here’s another … I was born in New Orleans.

Spellcasters don’t have to be witches either. It can be Ms. Middleton, my well-intentioned high school teacher, who was only trying to help. It can be your mom. Your best friend. Your spouse. Spellcasters can have your best interest at heart. Really. Or so they think.

Recently my husband and I attended a school event. We ate lunch with our daughter. Her friend’s parents couldn’t come, and we invited the child to join us. We laughed. Joked. Then it was time to leave.

Later that evening my daughter reported, “Sylvia told me some things about you.” “What?” I asked. You know about curiosity and the cat.

“She said dad is bald and you are a little wide in the hips.” Ouch. Cats are part of spell casting magic. And to think I had been feeling pretty good about my appearance. As much as I tried not to let them, the spell of a nine-year-old girl’s words stung. A child speaks, and I ask, “Are my hips that wide?”

The reality is…spells are cast all the time. Ricocheting from parents, friends, teachers, magazines, movies, commercials, the culture itself—you know, groupthink—and most of us are immediately spellbound.

Hollywood casts spells. TV casts spells. Fashion casts spells. Let’s talk about the popular TV reality show What Not To Wear. Hosts Jillian Hamilton and Clinton Kelly grab unsuspecting victims turned in by friends or family who are only trying to help. Jillian and Clinton give it to them about their lack of fashion sense.

And Jillian and Clinton are NOT nice. They put Little Janie in a room with surround mirrors. Talk about my worst nightmare. They have Little Janie try on her awful clothes and tell her why she looks so terrible. They then send spellstung Little Janie off with $5,000 to get her new look.

When she returns, Janie is told why everything she selected using their rules and expert advice works for her. “See Janie. The flared leg is so much more slimming.” Little Janie, who is now smiling and so pleased with her self, nods in agreement. “Remember those slim cut jeans you used to own. You know the ones we threw in the trash? They made you look 10 pounds heavier.”

Scriiiiitch. Slim cut jeans are back! What does Little Janie do now? Little Janie looks fat in slim cut jeans. The spell has been cast. And the spell has been accepted. How can Janie believe anything else? The famous TV Fashion People told her she looked fat in slim cut jeans.

Even though I don’t know a spell to counter a spell, I do know a place to begin—a way to stop at least one spell. It’s black-t-shirt-buying time. That’s what time it is. And after that it’s time to wear my black t-shirt. And you know what? I’m going to look damn good in it too. Poof. Spell be gone.

Allyn Evans
www.liveapowerfullive.com
www.allynevans.com

Do You Know Where You Are Going To?

2010-11-12T14:32:00.004-06:00

Last night I watched The Family That Preys featuring Kathy Bates as a socialite and well-to-do Charlotte Cartwright.

Near the end of the movie one of the characters (Alice) played by Alfre Woodward gives the eulogy at Charlotte's funeral.

Alice repeated something she often heard Charlotte say to her, "Are you living or just existing?"

I realized the minute I heard it. "Oh dear. Here comes an important message. Are you listening?"

I hope you'll give this question some thought. Maybe, for you, it's the right message at the right time.

Another powerful message delivered by Bates' character came through lyrics of song. Using the words from Lee Ann Womack's song "I Hope You Dance," Charlotte encouraged Alice to make fun choices.

Quite possibly the most haunting lines of the song are the key message: "Tell me who wants to look back on their youth and wonder where those years have gone." And just like Charlotte and Lee Ann, "I hope you dance." But I want to add one more ingredient to this recipe. "I hope you dance. Now."

Finding Your Own Good Witch Glenda

2010-09-25T17:56:00.004-05:00

This is a repeat, but indicative of the direction I am headed...

Several years ago, I made the decision to develop a greater awareness of my intuitive nature.

Although I have always been highly sensitive to the feelings of others, I wasn’t born with an elevated ability to interpret my intuitive whispers.

It took practice and time.

The key was trusting myself and acting on the messages I received.

The next move is to make a pledge. “I promise myself that I will take action based on the intuitive hits I receive.” When beginning the process, you are going to miss some of the hints along the way.

That’s life, and as is true with any new skill, you must practice. Simply recognize the misstep as soon as possible. Quite frankly, many of your ‘hits’ are going to blow right over you until you are ready to ‘hear’ them clearly.

Pay Attention to the Clues Dropped by the Queen Fairies. We’re often so closed off from our directives that we either don’t hear them or completely miss them altogether.

To make lasting change, you must make a declaration. By doing so, you are accessing the power of intuition. But, before you do, it is vitally important that you understand with this commitment comes the duty to act.

Simply asking to ‘hear’ more clearly doesn’t alter your current situation. It’s the acting on the inner promptings that change the course of your life. Yes, Good witch Glinda is speaking to you. She is reminding you of the silver slippers you are wearing.

As Nancy Sinatra so fittingly wrote and sang, these shoes (okay, so she actually said boots) are made for walking. Not stepping out shuts down the inner messages just as much as external noises. If you need support (and courage), form a team of friends to help you move forward.

Starting is the key.

"Turn around."
"Go to that store."
"Say hello!"
"Call Jane."
"Go to that meeting."

Whatever you hear, sense or know (we all experience different ways of communicating with ourselves) accept its value.

Don’t think your thoughts are crazy or unfounded. If you get the nudge to hug someone, do. If you get the urge to avoid a person, do that, too. Eventually, you’ll work up to strong feelings and sensations that either warn or prepare you to take the next move.

I no longer have to guess if I should collaborate with another person or not. Actually, fine-tuning this skill takes all the guesswork out of hiring. It significantly cuts out the need for extensive investigation. Whew! It’s something I know simply based on an interaction. I feel a certain way and I have learned to recognize those feelings.

I remember years back when I use to be unnerved by the security guard that regularly checked on our office. Something about him made my skin crawl. My reaction to his visits prompted me to never stay late without another person around. Although he appeared nice and presentable, on some level I sensed the danger.

Turned out this man had murdered someone. The security company missed this important little fact, but my higher self or inner knowing sensed danger.

Many people, me included, find answers in the quiet moments when your mind is still and the chatter is minimal. My best time to meditate or contemplate is in the morning immediately after waking up. That’s the time when you are the closest to a ‘dream-like’ state, which is highly conducive for communication with your higher self.

Other hints include being open to receiving answers and suggestions. Your messages could come from within or from others. Yes, the Queen fairies use other people, circumstances and physical sensations to inform you.

The main point is to recognize the need to pay attention. Your Queen fairies are all around you, dropping you little, essential hints continuously. Stay tuned. More to come soon.

With each passing day and year, those skills/abilities I wanted so badly are mine. It took focus, intention and practice. It's my desire to help you do the same.

Allyn Evans
www.allynevans.com
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Rainbow Cloud!

2010-06-10T12:11:00.003-05:00

On the drive home from our vacation, we witnessed a beautiful sight! This was taken with my Blackberry phone.

The Art of War

2010-04-28T16:52:00.003-05:00

Ever read one of those life-changing books?

While in the early stages of trying to write my latest book I did. Thanks to my dad’s sister, my dear Aunt Kay.

She kept insisting I read The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles by Steven Pressfield. Pressfield, turns out had written many books—at least one of them was a best seller.

Remember The Legend of Bagger Vance? No matter. I wasn’t the least bit interested. I knew how to overcome resistance. I had already written one book and had started another. And what about the stack of books I needed to read for research?

The way she described the book added nothing to the enticement. “It’s a book for artists—writers, painters, creators—who need help overcoming resistance. It’s written by some guy who writes historical fiction.”

No thanks. The book was solving a problem I didn’t have.

But she persisted. In the end, she handed me her copy. “It will only take one afternoon for you to read this.”

Finally I caved. I picked up the book and started reading.

The timing couldn’t have been better. Although I had been somewhat productive at the time (who am I kidding?), I still wondered about direction. I felt compelled to write a book for mothers of adolescent girls.

But I found myself constantly questioning. “What do I know? What do I have to tell? Why does anyone care what I have to say? Why do this?” These questions stopped me. These questions identified as resistance by Pressfield prevented me from doing the work. Basically I had stopped writing because of excuses. When I did write, I couldn’t find the words.

Pressfield asked us, “Have you ever brought home a treadmill and let it gather dust in the attic? Ever quit a diet, a course of yoga, a meditation practice? …

Have you wanted to be a mother, a doctor, an advocate for the weak and helpless; to run for office, crusade for the planet, campaign for world peace, or to preserve the environment?”

While reading I found myself nodding my head. Yes. Yes. Yes. He continued, “Then you know what Resistance is.”

Oh yes, I do. I most certainly do. Before ending his take on things he shared this…

One night I was layin’ down,
I heard Papa talkin’ to Mama.
I heard Papa say, to let that boy boogie-woogie.
‘Cause it’s in him and it’s got to come out.

—John Lee Hooker, “Boogie Chillen”

And then nothing else mattered. Nothing. Yes this book was in me, and it had to come out.

There would be no stopping. There might be some slowing, but there would be no stopping.

“’Cause it’s in me. It’s got to come out.” That’s’ what had happened with my first book. To create more resistance, I convinced myself this time was different. I no longer wrote from pain. Writing without pain was a new experience. Confused, I mostly didn’t do anything. Countless battles went on in my head. “Write.”

“Oh, it’s summer. Take it easy.”

“Enjoy. Relax.”

“I’m behind. I need to work. What about money?”

Besides not writing I also was taking a hiatus from speaking and promoting my first book.

Something bad was about to happen. If I did not take up pad and pen (okay, pounding a keyboard is more accurate), I would succumb to resistance. The symptoms of resistance would find me. And then I would be writing from a new pain—the pain of not doing what must come out.

Pressfield called it feeling like hell. “A low-grade misery pervades everything. We’re bored. We’re restless. We can’t get no satisfaction.”

Truthfully, by the time I read the book misery hadn’t found me. I had been having way too much fun for misery to catch up.

Mostly I played. Work happened in small surges. Very small surges. As the months sailed by so did my deadlines.

Instead of writing, I shoved down the anxiety and did something else. Then along came the solution to a problem I didn’t have: The War of Art. Perfect timing. For on the verge of unknowingly trudging towards my unlived life I found redemption.

The book captured me. I nodded in agreement. The words were powerful. I was taken in.

Near the end of the book, Pressfield said: “Let’s ask ourselves like that new mother: What do I feel growing inside me? Let me bring that forth, if I can, for its own sake and not for what it can do for me or how it can advance my standing.”

This freed me. Something deep inside needed to come out. Resistance danced with me. Toyed with me. Tried to stop me. Resistance didn’t win. And that’s when I really started. That’s when what was in me came out.

Allyn Evans
http://www.allynevans.com/
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2010-02-27T22:30:00.004-06:00

Recently, I have been teaching teens and young adults how to be assertive and manage conflict in their lives.

As I am repeating the lessons, I am also reminding myself to use clear and direct communication with others.

For years, I didn’t do this. I found more comfort using a passive aggressive route, which meant if I wasn’t getting my needs or wants met, I’d find more manipulative ways to do so. Or even worse, I wouldn’t tell anyone and wouldn’t make any attempt—manipulative or not—to get my needs or wants met.

Now, when I realize it’s time to voice something, I find it much easier to do. I’m sure being older and more experienced helps.

As I told the over thirty students I visited with this past week: “Don’t wait to become assertive. Don’t wait to start communicating in a clear and direct manner. Start now. Take small steps. Begin now to build your assertiveness muscle.”

Tell the young people in your life this message. It will save them lots of heartache and pain.

http://www.allynevans.com/
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Cruising Again!

2010-02-19T18:19:00.012-06:00

It's official. I have been invited back to cruise again. My next trip will be in January 2011.

After being without my desktop for three weeks (can I say "computer virus!"), I finally found the opportunity to download more pictures. So before closing this chapter of my blog, enjoy the show!

My favorite beach: Governor's Island, Grand Turk.

Another fun time was on Princess Cays (Eleuthera Island). See our ship in the distance. We were dropped off and picked up by "tender" boats.

We visited the Butterfly Farm in St. Thomas. You can visit their website and find out how to attract more butterflies to your yard or garden. The trick is having a host plant and a food plant. The Butterfly Farm website lists plants and butterflies by region to help you.

Here I am speaking. It's my last presentation of the cruise. I did three 45 to 60 minute presentations.

It was my first, and will not be my last. I had a fabulous time on board the Emerald Princess!

Dreams Really Do Come True

2010-01-28T17:20:00.006-06:00

While sitting on the beach last week in Princess Cays, Bahamas, I turned to my mother and said, "Dreams really do come true."

In December 2008, I couldn't stop thinking about my desire to travel.

As luck would have it, a good friend had just recently met Daniel Hall. She shared his contact information with me and I downloaded his ebook about cruising for free a few days later.

I followed Daniel's directions and before I knew it I was approved to sail with Princess.

By May 2009, I had my trip scheduled!

What a fabulous experience. Everything about the ship and the crew exceeded all my expectations. Here's a photo of the name plate on my door. Guess you now know what my first name is!

My mother and I were assigned a room in the crew area. We had a nice place to reside with plenty of storage. :)

I spoke in the Princess Theater for one presentation (to left) and Club Fusion (below).

Personally, I can't wait to get back on board! And for all of you I met while speaking, I would love to hear from you.

Allyn Evans
http://www.allynevans.com/
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Living in Oklahoma

2010-01-27T11:00:00.000-06:00

Ice, snow and more snow. Still have power! Since the ice has disappeared, think we'll be okay for this round. :)

Allyn Evans

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A Day In My Life

2010-01-10T15:50:00.007-06:00

It's unseasonably cold in Oklahoma. It's so cold that our pool has ice it in and we are working day and night to keep the water flowing and skimmer clear.

Enjoy the pictures. The middle one shows some of the ice we removed from the pool yesterday.

Also for fun, there is a YouTube video you might enjoy. It's about correcting a disorder for the annoyingly cheerful. Click here to enjoy!

Allyn Evans
www.allynevans.com
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My Favorite Dress

2010-01-02T11:46:00.004-06:00

“Homer, I was born for this."

In the movie October Sky when Homer expresses a desire to do something else, his Dad discourages him.

He then says, “It shouldn’t surprise you that you were born for it too.”

As the scene unfolded, Homer returned to his job at the coal mine. With his face covered in black soot, the son joined the other lifers in the elevator as they headed to work.

As I continued watching a replaying of October Sky, the story made me think about my own life.

No, I never ended up shoveling coal, but I listened to all the opinions of others about my life and how I should live it. So caught up in what others believed, I ignored my own desires and intuition—my own guidance system…my own feelings. I grew into an unsure adolescent taking my clues about how I should behave from others. Without a clear direction of my own, I lost myself.

In October Sky, Homer lost his way too. The analytical, scientific-minded son was different from his family. Homer didn’t quite fit.

Turns out, I didn’t fit either. I changed myself to fit the pre-cut pattern—the one purchased for me at the fabric store before I was born.

The pattern was perfect. The pieces were carefully sewn.

And then I was asked to wear it—a pastel dress with pink flowers and lace collar.

But, I yearned for a different dress, one made out of velvet and covered in dark, vibrant purples, gold and black hues.

Turns out, I ended up wearing the pastel dress for most of my life. By the time I gave myself permission to wear the dress I desired, it no longer fit.

My five-year-old self recognized a problem. At least my subconscious mind did and tried to warn me in my dreams. Nightly, my reoccurring nightmare frightened me. Walking down a narrow shrinking hallway, I found myself trapped. At the end of the hall I discovered a locked door. Banging frantically on the door, I screamed: “Let me out! Please, let me out.”

The dream told the story. With each passing day I would shrink becoming less of the person I was destined to be. Locked out, I would remain small, contained and not myself. With each step, I hid the shadow parts and became someone that I was not.

For survival purposes, those parts had to disappear. It was more important to be a good little girl than to be myself.

And, who I was, by my very nature and the place I found myself, wasn’t quite right. My parents, family and friends were victims too. They all bought into the cultural belief that I had to be trained in order to fit, just as they themselves had been trained.

I remember several years ago watching the latest winner of American Idol sing on the Ellen DeGeneris Show. Fantasia Barrino, a talented performer and singer, shared her self doubts. During her appearance on the show, Fantasia shared, “I’m happy that people like me being me!” And, that’s when I finally got it. The most important thing for us to do is to be ourselves while having the courage to live an authentic life. That’s the key that unravels everything—peace, joy, abundance, health.

With each passing year, I have moved towards myself.

Sappy movies always have a happy ending and the one featuring Homer was no different. The young man held on to his beliefs and took a stand.

Homer eventually said to his Dad, “The coal mine is your life. It’s not mine.”

And so now I, too, know the truth. My favorite dress will be made of velvet--with beautiful hues of purple and gold. I’ve been making it for a long time now. It’s almost ready to be worn.

May you find joy, peace and prosperity in 2010.

Allyn Evans
www.allynevans.com
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Celebrating The Holidays With Ease

2009-12-19T16:14:00.007-06:00

Introducing...our lovely, beautiful tree...a view from the street.

In November, I made a presentation to some employees of Chesapeake Energy. The topic. De-stressing the Holidays.

Wished I had already solved my Christmas tree dilemma by then. It would have made a great slide!

And now for the back story...

It's been a busy two months. So busy in fact that my family and I couldn't schedule a day to buy the tree and pull out the decorations. I decided to put my own advice to work...about de-stressing and cutting back during the holidays, if life was too crazy.

Last weekend, and feeling a little desperate about the situation, we purchased a fake tree.

Since my daughter was about three, we've always had a live tree. We also decorate the house with all the ceramic and related holiday themed trinkets.

This year, we are sort of acting like the Kranks (well...at least in the beginning of the story). Although not actually "skipping Christmas," we aren't doing it up in our usual fashion.

So, this purchasing a fake something is a new thing.

And then I spotted it. The price was reasonable. It actually cost less than our annual live tree purchase.

"I'll take it," I said to the store clerk.

"Oh, that? The Charlie Brown tree?"

"Charlie Brown? Really? But I like it."

"Me too," my daughter said.

And so my daughter and I left the store with our Charlie Brown tree.

We put it up in 10 minutes. Ten minutes. I danced with glee for what seemed like hours!

From the curb at night, it looks like we have the most fabulous tree ever (see picture above). The reality is (in the light of day)...it really is Charlie Brown "ish."

See for yourself what I mean.

I don't know about you, but I love our Charlie Brown tree.

http://www.allynevans.com/
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The 29-Day Giving Challenge

2009-12-08T09:14:00.003-06:00

I wanted to share a post written by Prill Boyle with you. The story of Cami Walker will give you much to think about.

To read the story, click here.

Allyn Evans
http://www.allynevans.com/

You Do Make a Difference

2009-11-13T16:38:00.009-06:00

Not too long ago, I had the opportunity to speak to 90+ Head Start administrators, teachers and assistants.

The person who invited me said, “Our staff do so much to help the children and their families and sometimes it gets overwhelming. Right now, I think they are exhausted.”

On the day of the event and right before heading to the lectern one of the organizers told me, “Last year we had an Elvis impersonator.”

Uh oh, I had taken a more serious approach to this assignment. Sure they would laugh some, but there would be no dancing, costumes and definitely no singing! I planned to lead them to inspiration by sharing hardship stories…mostly with happy endings.

I started by announcing I was no Elvis.

Well at least that got a good laugh.

And then I launched into my stories. One of the main points was to remind them they make a difference in the lives of children and families.

More times than not they will never know how much they impacted a child or her family. Remember George Bailey in It’s a Wonderful Life? George didn’t understand how valuable his life had been until Clarence Odbody, his guardian angel, granted him his wish.

“I wish I had never been born,” George said.

And with one snap of the fingers George’s life was erased and many other lives were changed.

His hometown of Bedford Falls became Pottersville named after a greedy old man named Potter.

The local pharmacist Dr. Gowder spent 20 years in prison for poisoning a child because George didn’t stop him. And his Navy pilot brother Harry did not shoot down the two Kamikazes who attacked a Navy transport and killed all men on board.

You get the picture. I wanted to make sure that the staffers from Head Start did too. So many times the good work you do, the kindness you spread will never be known by you.

You will not necessarily be told how uplifting it is to see your smile or that your kind words made someone feel better. You may never know that your example, your touch, your words stayed with someone and inspired them. You may never know this also impacted or will impact generations of people to come.

One of the contributors of Simple Truths tells of the story of a seminar participant who was so moved by her encouragement to tell those who inspired you how much you appreciated them, he vowed to find his 8th grade literature teacher.

After locating her address he sent a heartfelt letter stating how much he appreciated her. A week later his favorite teacher wrote him back.

She said, “You will never know how much your letter meant to me.” She also told him she was 83 years of age and that her family and friends were all gone. She said, “I taught for 50 years and yours is the first thank you letter I have ever gotten from a student. Sometimes I wonder what I did with my life. I will read and reread your letter till the day I die.”

When the student reported back to the workshop leader he said he was so surprised that she didn’t know how valuable she had been. He said things like, “She’s the one we talk about at reunions. She was our favorite teacher.”

At the end of my talk, I couldn’t help but bring up Elvis again. “So how did I compare to last year’s featured entertainer?” Several on the front shook their heads and a few mouthed consoling words: “Don’t worry.” “Wasn’t that good.” “You had nothing to worry about.”

Sorry Elvis. Back to the point…thank someone who has touched your life.

Allyn Evans
email me!
http://www.allynevans.com/

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The Things We Do

2009-10-29T14:30:00.008-05:00

I can see it now. One hundred years into the future, there will be a woman who decides to write about the tortures women of the early 21st century endured.

She would be writing about what they did. "They literally punched holes in odd places. They punched holes in their earlobes. Not only this, needles were used. How crazy is that?"

She would also report that she discovered pictures of women with bellybutton, nose, lip and tongue rings.

"Some of them had multiple puncture wounds. Men did it too." She would report how interesting the diary entries were.

"I can find no medical reason for someone to do this. It appears to be purely a vanity issue."

She would also report on the body art. "Some people allowed tattoo artists, as they were called, to paint pictures on them, again with needles. Many seemed to take the subtle approach, but some covered themselves with body art."

As I thought about this woman who would write about us so many years in the future, I was pulling off my Solar nails. This made me think of corsets. Wasn't that about hundred years ago? And wasn't it crazy that women wore them?

Okay, so the corset deal was a lot worse. Right? You should see my nails! Oops. I just pulled off the top layer.

And then I start thinking about my week.

"I have an event to attend. I have to get my nails done. I’m serious."

These thoughts are running through my head. "I shouldn’t get my nails done on Monday. I need to allow more time to heal. Ouch! My nails are tender to the touch."

I'm still thinking, but now I'm talking out loud: "Gotta do them. Gotta get them done. I can’t go without the nails. Look at these nails. It will not hurt too badly. I’ll tell them to go easy. Gotta have my nails."

And then it hits me. "Oh no. The roots are showing."

Allyn Evans

http://www.allynevans.com/

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Following Your Heart

2009-10-18T17:12:00.004-05:00

In my latest book for mothers of tweens, Helping Our Daughters Live Powerful Lives, I take a lesson from the movie Ice Princess. Joan Carlyle, based on her own experiences, believes she knows what’s best for her daughter, Casey.

As an academician Joan has always pushed Casey in a similar direction. In the beginning her daughter plays along.

Near the end of the movie Casey tells a Harvard interviewer she must chase another dream.

Finally Casey realizes it is her heart that must decide what to do with her life...not her mom. She withdraws her name from consideration and has to break the bad news to her mother. Her mother doesn't take the news well.

They had worked so hard on this dream.

Harvard is it. Harvard is Casey’s ticket to her future. Casey, though, has a different dream. Casey is an ice skater.

“Casey, you can’t do this,” her mom says. “You are giving up on your dream.”

“No mom,” Casey says, “I’m giving up on yours.”

In a Judging Amy TV episode, Judge Amy is upset with Lauren, her pre-teen daughter. Lauren wants to try out for the cheerleading team. Judge Amy is dead set against it.

She says no, and gives no good reason for her decision.

She seems harsh and uncaring.

As I watched, I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her. Later we find out Judge Amy had not made her squad and felt rejected by her cheerleading peers.

To Judge Amy, cheerleaders were snobby and cruel. She wants to protect Lauren from a similar scenario. Lauren’s experience is different. To her, the cheerleaders are friendly and accepting.

It’s hard for others to not let their own hurts and pains color their recommendations and decisions. The bottom line is there are many, many people with many, many opinions, ideas, suggestions, laws and recommendations about how we should behave or act. No one else on the face of this planet—not even loved ones with best intentions—can take into consideration all the factors of a person striving to make decisions and to reach personal goals.

When we attempt to listen to well-meaning authority or support figures in our lives, we tend to get lost. What they might perceive as a “safe” bet, like Joan Carlyle, might be anything but for us.

As I tell my workshop participants, “You are the one that has to wake up to your life everyday.”

Something else I like to include and I'm paraphrasing the words of Caroline Myss. "Take the riskiest path you can find; the safest path is an illusion."

Allyn Evans
email me!
http://www.allynevans.com/

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A Box Too Small

2009-09-29T09:18:00.009-05:00

Over the last few weeks, I have been editing my first book. Yes, the book is getting a face lift! And hopefully will come out error free. Well...at least we'll make a really good go at it.

Below is an excerpt that is in keeping with our current theme.

I wanted to share with you because I thought it might be helpful for those of you still struggling with the "next" step.

Dream Excerpted from My Journal

As I was finishing up the duties assigned to me in my old life, I had a very revealing dream. A former boss opened his office door and asked me to look at the small box in the corner.

His office was completely empty except for this box that resembled a standard mailbox. He said, “Allyn, I want you to fit yourself in that box while I’m gone.” I agreed and said that I would do it for him. He closed the door and left.

I tried for a long time to fit myself in that small box but couldn’t do it. No matter how hard I tried the box just wasn’t big enough.

Marsha Sinetar, well-known career consultant and author once said, “Maybe this narrowing of life—the eroding of interests and hope—could be likened to being cooped up in a room that’s too small…The only thing that’s stopping you is you.”

How true both her thoughts and my dream turned out to be. My final breaking point was at the pinnacle of my professional life. Three months after being named in the "dream job" position, I declared, “No more!”

The pay was fabulous and the position was definitely good for my ego, but the job was choking the life right out of me. Adding to the pressure, I now had a two-year-old daughter that I suddenly had no energy to care for. It was all too much and with deep regret, I realized I had just eaten the wrong carrot.

The journey to finding what I was really looking for wasn’t over yet, but I was sure the heavens rejoiced—I finally got some of the message. Immediately I took back a part-time job I had at the college while I regrouped and rested.

Within fourteen months, I had started a home-based business and was making almost as much as I had made with my former job minus headaches, stress and fatigue. The business, a résumé writing and career consulting startup, was a perfect match.

I knew everything about preparing marketing materials, interviewing and convincing an employer to hire me. My knowledge came from my own experiences, numerous interviews and books. I emerged from all those seemingly dead-end paths as a career consultant. I had a tried and proven means to make money that was very practical and inexpensive to launch.

Besides that, I enjoyed the work and relished the opportunity to stay at home with my daughter.
After two years, though, the thought of writing another résumé from scratch was nauseating. To change things up a little, I added grant writing—finding a fairly easy way to add more money to my bottom line. That decision prolonged my home-based business for another six months, but by the time my daughter was scheduled to go to school full-time, I knew I had to change things.

Not interested in returning to a traditional job or a boss, I sought consulting jobs—short-term contracts and commitments.

As luck would have it, a nonprofit company needed an Interim Executive Director to fill in for nine months. I had the skills and was hired.

A deal was quickly sealed. The contract was part-time, but still provided the share that I needed to contribute to the family income. With income covered, I dropped all my other contracts with résumé and grant writers. I focused on myself. Finally, I was ready to follow my heart. But first, I had to figure out what my heart wanted.

It's my hope that you too can find a way to listen to your heart. Next post, I'll give suggestions on how to do just that.

Allyn Evans
email me!

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Escaping the Fog of Confusion

2009-09-03T13:57:00.004-05:00

There’s a book I read a couple of years back by Maria Nemeth titled Mastering Life's Energies. (Incase you are wondering, I am not affiliated with Maria's program.) And it’s also a book I recently sent to a friend who is struggling with the “what now” question. My friend is not happy at work and knows there is something more she is to be doing.

While reading one of her emails, I remembered the book and how it helped me. Then I mailed it to her.

And then as is typical for me, I accidentally ran across an article I wrote for subscribers to my Queen-zine two years ago. I want to share that article with you today.

In 2007, I wrote…

In the book Maria asks us, “Are you willing to live your life with clarity, focus, ease and grace?” Do I see a showing of hands? My hand is up. Yes. Yes. Yes. That’s my plan. For the most part, since writing my first book, I have created an easy life for myself.

Check off ease. But what about the other three?

Let’s take clarity—something I haven’t had for about nine months. Actually, I relate the “derailing” to my juror experience. Let's just say, the experience was NOT a good one. If you are curious, click here:
This turned into an Amazon Short article. It costs .49 to purchase and read.

That’s when the fog rolled in. Living in fog made me do some bad things (got to blame something or somebody besides me, right?). Being confused meant I made commitments I couldn’t keep. I found myself doing something I rarely did in the past. I broke promises. More times than not, what I thought was a new direction was a step off course. I corrected and adjusted, saying I'm sorry as I plodded along, but still I couldn’t ‘see’. Maria calls it “driving in the fog”.

I continued on anyway trusting something that Maria also says, “When you see clearly what is before you, you will know in your heart what to do.”

But first, I stopped making promises. Obviously, I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to make commitments. When you are “driving in fog,” you can be misled by invitations that seem exciting, lucrative or safe simply because when fog sets in your intuitive abilities usually diminish. You go after things for “obvious” reasons and use logic to explain why you are doing something.

Using this method gets you to do crazy things like: fall for the “get-rich-quick” scheme, “take-the-full-time-position-because-at-least-you’ll-have-money-even-if-you-hate-it” job, or “you-are-crazy-not-to-do-this-because-you-will-miss-out-on-the-gravy-train” opportunity. While “driving in fog” you are more likely to make bad choices. Period. The End. If you are “driving in fog”, it’s time to cease and desist embarking on new endeavors until clarity returns.

How do you solve the “not-seeing-clearly” problem? Maybe I’m not the best person to ask. :) It took me months to overcome the recent storm. But this storm was different. This time I was not tortured by my old fears of the past like:

1. Can I make or create something?
2. What am I supposed to do with my life?
3. How will I earn enough to eat?

Those are issues, I have mastered and overcome. If you are still hanging around in that territory, it’s okay. You can learn to overcome too. Read books! That’s how I absorbed most of my information. I have a recommended reading list. http://allynevans.blogspot.com/2006/11/about-me.html

If you don't want to buy any of the books, that's okay. Ask your librarian to order them (if they are not in stock at your library). This way others will benefit too and it doesn't cost you a dime.

But I disgress...

Let's return to the original question. How do you resolve the "not-seeing-clearly" problem?

Easier said than done. For most of us, it's about waiting. I usually chalk fog experiences up to bad timing or the need to wait. It can also be caused by not having all the facts or because you are not sure how you feel about something. Basically, you are in a holding pattern as you wait for all the pieces to come together.

So what are you to do? Besides waiting, you spend time contemplating and dreaming. You pay attention to everything that is around you, including your nightly messengers (dreams). And you keep waiting.

BACK TO THE STORY…

Just like most people, I felt frustrated by my lack of clarity. I knew eventually the fog would lift. It always does. But I also realized moving forward wasn't the right move. So, what did I do while waiting? I focused on “present moment” living. And in my spare time I read books. I searched for answers and teachers.

And one day the fog lifted. The day was September 21, 2007.

NEXT TIME…I’ll give you an update on 2009.

P.S. If you want to check out my Amazon Short about my juror experience—you know the experience that kicked off the downward spiral—feel free to do so. They cost 49 cents. I’ve enjoyed reading some of the stories by other Amazon Short authors. It’s a wide offering of fiction and nonfiction. Plus you can’t beat the price!

Here’s the link, if you are interested. I’ve been told by reviewers that it is also a good lesson for parents and children.

Allyn Evans

www.allynevans.com

I'm Not Weird, I Have SPD

2009-08-10T10:59:00.007-05:00

Today's featured guest is Chynna T. Laird. Chynna is the author of "I'm Not Weird, I Have SPD." To learn more about Chynna visit her websites: http://www.lilywolfwords.ca/ and http://www.lilywolfwords.blogspot.com/.

Enjoy her article posted below. We both love comments, feedback and questions.

My Sensational Child

When Jaimie was two-and-a half, she was diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD).

We were both relieved and frustrated.

Honestly, I’d never heard of SPD. I’d heard of Autism, Asperger’s and ADHD but not this mysterious SPD.

But we watched our daughter slowly slip away from us since she was three months old and knew something was wrong. She rarely slept, fought us with every simple hygiene task tooth and nail, spent most of her awake time screaming and refused our touch.

We couldn’t take her anywhere too busy/loud/smelly/bright/etc. or she broke down or froze. Her diagnosis was a relief, then, because we finally had a name for what Jaimie struggled with. But it was still a relatively unknown disorder so we couldn’t get the right support. That was the frustrating part.

Before the SPD diagnosis, we fought to have people listen to us…to see that what Jaimie struggled with was deeper than just her reactions to things or her overt behaviour.

Something in her tiny little body made her fearful of the world around her and we refused to accept that it was “normal” or “spiritedness” and there just had to be other parents out there like us wondering, hurting and researching.

A lot of people call SPD an “invisible disorder” because you can’t see it on a child’s face or body. The only glimmer that something is wrong is their reactions to people, situations, and events and that they often have to try just a bit harder to bounce a ball, play sports like stick hockey or ice skate or concentrate.

But Jaimie is real and so is her SPD. That’s why I chose to talk about our experiences with SPD—to reach out…to, maybe, help other families feel a bit better and less alone.

Since Jaimie was going for therapy, learning how to cope with her world and the people in it, shouldn’t those people in her world learn how to interact with her?

She’s like the other children around her in many ways. She loves drawing, crafting and going to the park. She loves swimming and playing with her siblings. And, boy, does she love learning. She just does things a bit differently. And that’s okay.

Jaimie is six-and-a half now and going into first grade in the fall. She still has a lot of the same struggles but she’s come a long way. What’s helped is the love and support she’s gotten from those around her. Knowledge is so important because it fosters understanding and that’s all we want for these children.

I may not be able to adjust the world to help Jaimie feel safe or hold her to make her feel better but I can teach others how the world feels to her and I can give her the tools to talk about it. After all, Jaimie is my sensational child—my miracle girl—and she’s not invisible and neither is SPD.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chynna Laird is a psychology student, freelance writer and author living in Edmonton, Alberta with her three daughters [Jaimie (six), Jordhan (four), and baby Sophie (one)] and baby boy, Xander (two and a half). Her passion is helping children and families living with Sensory Processing Disorder and other special needs.

You’ll find her work in many online and in-print parenting, inspirational, Christian and writing publications in Canada, United States, Australia, and Britain. She’s most proud of her children’s picture book, "I’m Not Weird: I Have SPD," which she wrote for Jaimie. In addition, she’ll have a memoir about raising a child with SPD out in August 2009 and a reference book about the Sensory Diet coming January 2010.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks to WOW! Women on Writing for providing the introduction.
http://www.allynevans.com/

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2009-08-07T11:44:00.004-05:00

Whether you’re going on a business trip or a get-away with friends, unraveling yourself is hard if you are a caregiver. You must make arrangements for everything from who’s picking up Johnny or who’s dropping off Suzie, to planning what Johnny and Suzie are going to eat.

When I was trying to pull the pieces together for a March trip, I almost threw in the towel. I almost cancelled.

I went, but separation drama continued even after I reached my destination. Adding to my stress, my dogs had become escape artists soon after I left. My husband was out of town and I had to resolve the “dog break” incident from afar, all the time wondering, “What was I thinking?”

I am lucky. I have lots of support. My long-time friend with three kids under 13, a pressure-filled job and not-so-supportive husband emailed me a week before our scheduled departure, saying, “It’s not going to work. Too much to sort out. Better go without me.”

I understood. I questioned my own ability to go.

At just the right time, I read something written by a young mother. “Picture a white horse, mane in the breeze, splashing through rivers. Now imagine that same horse curled up in a ball in the corner of a shadowy stall. That horse is me,” she said.

She wrote she loved her current life and understood the role she was playing, but still she pined for the woman she had been: “I used to be the girl who spent midnights dancing around my car at red lights. I can’t remember the last time I was in a car without kids. I used to be outgoing and fun. Now I'm just settled and quiet. I used to help autistic kids. Now I barely see my own sister.”Her essay reminded me of myself only a decade ago. There were moments when it felt like I would be a mother of an infant forever.

Horse Lady said more: “I've been tamed, like a wild horse stuck in a muddy stall. Tamed by life. Routine. I'm not a routine person. I like change and messy spontaneity. I like the freedom to run when I want to, and not be held back by so many to-do's. I miss writing poetry and stories every day with enough passion to cover the globe. Too much to do. Work. Cleaning. Cooking. Babies. Maintaining our business.”

I had been there, slap dab in the middle of life as a caregiver. Though I still am, I’m no longer so deeply entrenched. I wanted to tell her that she could find herself again. I wanted to tell her with each passing birthday it does get easier and less labor intensive. I also wanted to encourage her to put “life” and “dreams” back into the formula—even if on a very small scale. The mistake caregivers make is giving up all desires and dreams while giving everything to duty, routine. It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, though it might be less of “own life” and “dreams” than at other times.

Reading this article helped me stick to my guns. I went on the trip despite the headaches and mixed feelings. Though it took some effort, it was time for me to step out on my own.

And it was well worth the effort.

We must remember our children aren’t just looking to us for transportation and meals. They are learning life is more than a to-do list, that there are times even for grown-ups to leave the stable and run on their own.

Women's Voices Revisited

2009-07-10T16:43:00.004-05:00

I am revamping my first book. Yes, it's getting a new title and face lift. I am excited about it and will share the new cover with you here, once I get the final draft.

While going through this process, I am taking time to re-read the book. I want to find those errors and typos that got by us during the first publishing attempts.

Doing this brings me back into the material and the voices of the women who talked to me and others about their lives.

Here are some of their words (some in the book and some not).

"I can remember being nice was a goal of mine. I would write it down on my list. 'Be nice!' How many boys would have that as their goal?" (laughs) Kathleen, 35 years old.

"My mother started telling me when I was little . . . Don’t let anyone cause you to try to be somebody else.” Christine, 91 years old

“My aunt was my role model. She had no children, when I visited her, I was the Queen. At my home, we had nine children and my mother always had a baby on her hip. Aunt Dorothy would take me to guitar lessons, water ballet lessons, made doll clothes for my dolls. I was the Queen Bee.” Vicki, 59 years old

"I would pick my battles differently. I would be a little bit different there. I wouldn’t care whether my daughter wore pink shoes with a blue dress. Whereas I did at the time." Kitty, 60-something year old

"I’m not going to be like my mother. That ended up being twenty years of hell—trying NOT to be like my mother." Margaret, 55 years old

One interview was most meaningful to me. The woman, who has since passed away, had ovarian cancer. She was most reflective. I included a few of her answers below.

She told me "There was always this expectation that you grow up and get married. A lot of women didn’t see that there were choices."

She told me that as she played the wife of role and mother she felt misplaced. "I felt like there was somewhere else I was suppose to be. Something else I was supposed to be doing. I was intellectually and emotionally stifled. I didn’t feel like I was a contributing member to the human race. I always felt like I needed that and that I wanted to keep learning."

She also confessed, "I had to suppress the real me."

I asked her what advice she had for mothers of daughters.
"I think if I had to do it over it again, I think I would have encouraged my daughter in different ways. I would have honored her strenghts to help her find her way. Personally, I was never encouraged in any direction in one way or another. Neither was I discouraged. No one ever said to me, 'Okay, you have a good way with words…you should consider writing for the newspaper, enter a writing contest.' Nothing was ever encouraged that way. It was like having tunnel vision growing up. There were no forks in the road."

And now I will return to one of my favorite quotations and one that ended the book.

When asked if she had anything else to say, an 80+ year old woman responded, "I done said enough." Well, me too!

Till next time...

Allyn Evans

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Having Your Own Good Witch Glinda

2009-06-18T17:59:00.007-05:00

Excerpted from my first book, Grab the Queen Power: Live Your Best Life! (2005).

Several years ago, I made the decision to develop a greater awareness of my intuitive nature.

Although I have always been highly sensitive to the feelings of others, I wasn’t born with an elevated ability to interpret my intuitive whispers.

It took practice and time.

Allyn Evans
www.allynevans.com
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My Momma Done Told Me

2009-06-07T15:09:00.010-05:00

When I wrote my first book, we ended up with lots of quotations that were not used. My editor put them all together on one page and we ended up including them in the book. She titled it:

My Momma Done Told Me. No, these weren't things my mother told me. Although some of the sayings were heard by many of us as we grew up. Primarily, these are things the women interviewed were told by their caregivers and also some of their random thoughts about life in general.

Behave yourself and remember whom you belong to. If you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas. Birds of a feather flock together.

People judge you by the company you keep. What will the neighbors think? Good girls don’t talk like that.

No time to do it right, just time to do it over. It’s the poor dryer that can’t help the washer. Shut the door. Were you raised in a barn?

Spare the rod; spoil the child. Children should be seen and not heard. If I told you once, then I’ve told you a thousand times.

I’d be thinner and a little shorter. When it mattered, I wanted to be thinner. I’d change the sagging of my body that is happening as I’m getting older. I’d change my feet. I hate my toes. I would have fuller lips and thicker eyelashes.

I’d be like Ruth Lovely—she’s as good as she is beautiful. I wouldn’t change anything. I’m quite satisfied with what God gave me.

Yep, I have a regret! I regret that I married the wrong person. I have some regrets. It’s hard to say that things didn’t turn out like I planned because I never had any definite plans for my life. I always wanted to be married, have children and a home.

I had to wear dresses and ruffled socks and ruffled underwear. I wore Mary Jane’s, a hand-smocked pinafore and a bow in my hair. My cousins wore little suits. We looked like dolls . . . they looked like grownups.

No, my mother didn’t make a difference. She told us she was an equal opportunity ass whooper. She’d whip us all. They treated us equally. My mother and father dealt with us the same.

He always got off lighter and had more freedom. I felt stifled in that way. I can’t say there was a difference in the way we were disciplined. The Queen says the things we wish we could!

Why dogs are men’s best friends? I’m a girl and Snow is my best friend!

My goodness, what will they think? How will it make your family look? What about your reputation?

My dad's mother used sickness a lot when she was raising a family of six kids. Her's was "bed" rest though. She'd say she was "sick" and go to bed for a day or two. I'm sure others coped this way.

If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all. Can’t tell you how many times I was pinched or jabbed in the thigh with a hatpin for messing up that one! I think that children should be seen not heard so much.

They weren’t heard as much in my day and time. We were told to leave when adults had company. The grown ups would get the bigger pieces of chicken and the children would take what was left over.

We played domestic games, so the fact that I couldn’t wear shorts or pants didn’t hinder my play. The girls had to do the inside chores like laundry, cooking and housecleaning. The boys did anything outside the house such as yard work. But, we all worked in the fields—chopping and picking cotton.

We did the inside chores. My brother’s job was to take out the trash. He only had to do one job—take out the trash. I was encouraged to spend time in the kitchen, but I really didn’t like it. I knew how to clean up real well. I sure didn’t care about doing that on a regular basis.

We all had to share in the household chores before we could go outside and play. When my little brother got older, though, he was only required to take out the garbage.

Yes, I try to avoid conflict. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells. I always worry that I’m going to offend someone or step on somebody’s toes. And, it’s hard for me to realize I can’t make everyone happy.

And finally, more than one person told me the following...some used different words, but the point was made repeatedly: "I had to suppress the real me."

Allyn Evans
www.allynevans.com
www.thealertparent.com

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