But I didn’t really write. I dabbled at writing. I talked about writing. I wrote about writing. But I didn’t put in the grueling hours behind the desk, plugging away at the keyboard day after day, month after month, refining the words,polishing the same pages and chapters until they glowed like a gem. I wasn’t willing to do the hard work. I didn’t eat, drink, sleep with and make love to my words. I wasn’t married to my writing.

Then on March 8th, 2008, I came across this quote that changed my life.

It’s no good running a pig farm badly for thirty years while saying, “Really I was meant to be a ballet dancer.” By that time, pigs will be your style.

Quentin Crisp

I was on the cusp of turning forty-eight when I read that quote, with no idea in the world how I was going to make my dreams come true. For awhile, I had been roaming the net, reading blogs and soaking up new information that had been pouring out through the “How To Do Everything” Cornucopia of  ”Experts” that had hit the blogging stage.

On sheer impulse, I reached over with my mouse, clicked the free WordPress button,  came up with the name Life’s Little Inspirations, jotted down my thoughts on the Pig Farm quote and Wham…I was a blogger.

Why had I done it?

Because I was running out of time.

That moment was the second I had to look myself in the mirror and say…”Wendi? Are you doing this or not? Are you or are you not- A Writer, and are you or are you not…going to write and publish a book, cause if you don’t you might as well be a pig farmer all your life.”

I had to get out of the mud. I knew I would never, ever forgive myself if I didn’t.

Writing posts here at LLI were the first baby steps. I never expected anyone to read them. I just expected myself to come here and write, to show up to the page and have the discipline  to put something coherent out there that would be technically published. The fact that the world responded almost blew me away. It was an incredible feeling and the affirmation I needed to keep on going.

Meeting Deb Dorchak and James Chartrand and writing with them both at Escaping Reality expanded my confidence in writing fiction in ways that are immeasurable.  I will always be grateful to both of them for my experiences as their writing partners there.  They are both incredibly talented writers and I know without a doubt, that I owe them both a great deal of recognition for the growth of my writing skills over the last two years.

The Journey through Intention

On March 8th, 2008, I made an intention.  An easy way to describe an intention- my version anyway- is to say it’s that moment when you set something in your head that says, “This is what I intend to do and come hell or high water, this is how it’s going to be. And then it just is. No drama. No marching band, no bugles, just the matter of fact knowledge that this is how it is and nothing in the world is going to change it. It’s unshakable. I set my intention to be a published writer before I left my fiftieth year. NO MATTER WHAT. I just put it out there, believed it, hit the WordPress button and started my new life.  Cause I sure as hell wasn’t going to be a pig farmer.

I didn’t know all of you would come here. I didn’t know I would meet Deb and James. I didn’t know that one day Deb and I would be talking and we would discover we had similar dreams of owning a similar business that meshed so well that we would become business partners together. I had no idea that Deb and I would have a writing style that blended so well that our words tumbled together on the page and that our brainstorming and ideas could create an adventure that spanned the space of four large books.

I had no earthly idea. I couldn’t have imagined this in all my wildest dreams. but the Universe did. Or, I’d like to think God did…if you’ll allow me an expression of my own faith here.

When you put your foot down, make the decision- and start step by step working toward your vision, the universe will respond. Every single time.

But you have to make the first step. And you have to keep on walking. You can’t ever quit. If you want to stay out of the mud, you have to keep on walking.

By the way, I AM a writer now.  I never doubt it, I never question it or wonder. I’ve come a long way from that first Pig Farm post where I got paid to write but still doubted my value in the writing world.

How do I know I’m a writer? Because I write. Day in, day out, up at six thirty, hands on the keyboard, fingers flying, my head lost in a world that only exists in the mind of the two women who created it and the few people who’ve been allowed access to it. I write for hours. Six, seven, eight hours a day- or night-depending on what day it is, and then when I am finished, I look it all over and tear it apart and make it all better. I refine it, I dream about it, I make love to my words in my sleep. I’m as married to my writing as I am to the man who shares my bed at night.  Our characters are as real to us as any flesh and blood person we know. Because we wrote them and brought them to life.

And the book? Bonds of Blood & Spirit: Loyalties will be published in late October this year, six months before my fifty-first birthday. It’s been an amazing journey that all began in the mud.

So…if you ever feel like your down in the dirt and it’s too late to start over?

It’s not. Nobody has to be a Pig Farmer except the guy who takes care of the pigs.

WOW.

That’s my new word this week. It seems to fall out of my mouth with increasing regularity as I live my life more wide awake and on fire with inspiration each passing day.

Wow, I’m so utterly speechless and touched by all the people who came and offered their support to our family as my brother-in-law Andrew celebrated his final days here on earth and made his journey to Heaven last week. Wow…the way the service men in the Air Force came to honor him with the flag-folding ceremony and Taps for his service as a Captain in the Air Force made me so proud to be an American, (it was coincidently July 3rd) that I thought my heart would fall right out of my chest. I still, a week later, am getting teary-eyed just thinking about it with gratitude for all of our service men and women.

Wow. My family and I have amazing friends. And we have each other. We are a great family and I don’t take that for granted. The death of a loved one is always tragic. But it is also a time when the truly important things in life come into crystal clear focus and the people around you step up and show you who they really are  in your life. True friends come out of the woodwork to be there for you, to offer support, to give a helping hand, or even an ear to be heard or a shoulder to cry on.  We had so much support and kindness, especially my sister’s friends, (some of them in the picture)that I am still thinking about it. How special a gift it is to have life-long friends. The level of gratitude and amazement for these wonderful people heals the pain like a loving ointment and soothes the soul back to the land of the living.

We are so blessed to have you all in our lives. Thank you just doesn’t seem to be a big enough word.

Being intimate with death again brings back the reminder of how fragile and temporary- and short- our time here actually is. It renews my resolve to live Wide Awake and Inspired and to remember that every day is a precious gift, one not to be squandered away or taken for granted.

My brother-in-law Andy suffered from  a serious illness. He was in the late stages and it was difficult for him to speak or walk or get around. Yet, every single day he managed to find joy and happiness and to share that joy with the people around him. His courageous life inspired his friends and family to make the best of each day and the moments that we have.

He left an amazing legacy of joy and happiness for us to follow.

He was a real example of a Life Lived Inspired. Wow. I hope I can live mine half as well.

I asked you to join me on a challenge. A challenge to live life by a certain standard, one that required us to be wide awake, fully engaged and on purpose. I challenged us to fully commit to a life worth living.

The one word was Inspired. And the challenge was to to spend this year living an Inspired Life.

Several  of you took that Challenge. We are just passing the six month mark in the year. Half of our Inspired Year is over.

How are we doing?

Going through life with my eyes half-closed

I have found it to be an amazing journey so far. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but, it wasn’t this. It was fun for the first few weeks in January to run around all pumped up and motivated, with fire in my belly singing, “I want to Live Inspired!”. The words soaked into my skin and into my heart but soon they created a dissonance that was no longer any fun at all.

In fact, it was down right painful. It was hard to be inspired when all around me were things that were uninspiring. What I discovered was that I didn’t like what I saw when I lived with my eyes wide open. I didn’t like the clutter. I didn’t like my weight. I didn’t like the list of plans, and dreams and goals not done. I liked the ideas and the future better then the actual reality and moment that I was living in. That…I wasn’t fond of at all.

The part where the honest truth is a little bit ugly.

I discovered something very interesting about myself. I have a lovely ability to turn away from that which I don’t want to see. I just stop seeing it. Turns out it’s easy to be positive and upbeat when you refuse to look at anything ugly. Including your own messes. But it isn’t living wide awake. It isn’t living Inspired. It’s living numb. It’s living on auto-pilot and refusing to see what is really around you.

The more I wanted to Be Inspired, the more I kept my eyes open to the world around me, the more I had to admit….I didn’t like it very much.

It wasn’t all that inspiring.

Huh.

I had a choice. Go back to living with my eyes half-closed or get busy and change my life so I could honor my goal of Living Inspired.

I got busy.

In the last six months I have:

Said goodbye to toxic relationships
Started the War on Clutter- (and we are winning!)
Accomplished my lifetime goal of writing a novel. (With Deb, to be published this fall)
Got my weight and health plan back on the right track ( in progress)
Built a successful business with Deb at Blue Sun Studio, inc
Enjoyed wonderful, meaningful good times with my husband and family
Am honestly feeling fully engaged, wide awake and Inspired.

It has really been a grand adventure. But not an easy one. There was a death in the family this week. I discovered that living wide awake  and inspired also means being willing to fully experience the sadness and the tears also. No more walking away from what I don’t want to see means…well…it means being willing to experience pain.

That has been a painful reminder. Life hurts. Deep sometimes.

But I’ll tell you this. I will gladly feel every drop of pain for all the love and magic and mystery it also has to give. Living Inspired this year is making the life I always wanted a reality, strengthening rewarding, loving relationships and opening doors of possibilities that once only seemed like fairytales.

And it’s only the end of June. I can’t wait to see what the rest of the year will bring.

How about you? How is your Inspired year going?  It’s not to late to take the challenge.

Today we have a very special guest writer. My husband, John Kelly, shares his thoughts on how he is helping to fight the War on Clutter at our house. I can’t thank him enough for his continued support in all areas of our life. Thanks John!

My wife’s recent war on clutter has inspired me to resurrect a life strategy that when I have the discipline to use it, works great to combat clutter.

I forget how old I was when I realized why I had clutter in my life.  When I would put a pile of mail on the counter, when something meant for the office was placed carefully at the bottom of the stairs, and when a project was left half done on my coffee table, in my mind I was saying, “I’ll do that later”.  The reality is that 70% of the time I never did do it later.  And so it sat.  On the counter. On the steps. On the coffee table.  When I realized this, I started a strategy of:

“But, what if I don’t?”

Whenever I would go to put something down, I would remind myself that what I was ultimately saying to myself was, “I’ll put that away later.”  I started to respond to myself, sometimes out loud,

“But, what if I don’t?”

Then I would take the twenty extra seconds to put it away.  Recently, my wife Wendi and I have been working on the garden.  As we work, we talk.  When we talk, we get ideas.  When we get ideas, we have more projects.  One of the things I feel I have contributed to her “War on Clutter” is the desire to start fewer projects, but finish more.  That is, to have only one project at a time, but stick with it until it’s done.  And, I have a new mantra to go with “What if I don’t”, called:

“If it takes more than a day, put it away.”

Right now, there is an empty suitcase on the bedroom floor from my business trip this week.  I left it there silently saying to myself, “I’ll put that away later”.

But, what if I don’t?

Excuse me for a minute; I think I’ll go put it away.

When not helping Wendi fight the War on Clutter, John works as project manager for Schneider Electric North America. He is director of their HR Corporate University program as well as supports business leaders through performance consulting.
John has a B.S. in Psychology from Xavier University in Cincinnati and is currently pursuing a Masters in Organizational Behavior at Benedictine University. He has been a personal productivity and time management geek (and sometimes coach) since 1990.

Apparently the good Lord above approves of my war, because the moment I decided I was drawing the line in the sand and putting an end to the sneaky and not so sneaky piles of clutter in my life, He decided to pitch in and help out with a flood.

He’s good at those. He has had a lot of practice.

This one took place in our basement and assured that anything I might have wavered on or had even a thought to give a reprieve from the dumpster was NOT going to happen.

I could be angry. I could cry. (It’s tempting.) Instead I’ve decided to just go with the flow and let it work for me. We filled an entire dumpster over the brim with eighteen years of memorabilia from our lives of living in this house. Items my two oldest children left behind when they moved away, pictures and electronics that no one knew what to do with anymore but hadn’t quite mustered up the courage to part with, furniture that wouldn’t have sold in a garage sale. Oh yes- and then there was the carpet, padding and the drywall…fate’s  contribution to the project- but hey, sometimes it takes a little push to make sure we won’t go back on our resolve.

Who knows. I might have wavered on that musty smelling box of baby pictures or the ugly Christmas ornaments that we haven’t put on the tree in seven years. Who knows when we might get in the mood for them again. And that ripped  gray plaid chair was comfortable for watching movies. You just had to throw a blanket over it to keep from noticing how miserably ugly it was…

The End of the Road For Ugly

I turned Fifty a few months ago.  I celebrated Fifty like a débutante awaiting her first dance. . We had a great party, I celebrated it with many of the closest people in my life, we laughed, shared stories, we sang, we cheered to the future and toasted to new dreams and plans.   I loved turning fifty. My family is getting used to hearing me say  sentences that begins with the words- “Now that I am Fifty…” at first they were cringing but already they are starting to see the value I think. Well, at least John is coming around.It might take a little longer for the kids. I’m not exactly sure why, but it is like a switch has gone off in my brain. Turning Fifty has somehow given me mental permission to live the life I dreamed of having. It feels like My Turn.

Now that I am Fifty…I want to live in a clutter free house

Now that I am Fifty…I m surrounding myself with only beautiful things I adore

Now that I am Fifty…I am taking the time I deserve to take care of me

Now that I am Fifty…I am slowing down enough to stop and smell the roses

It goes on and on and on but you get the idea. So, the first thing I did was to declare a war on clutter and ugly things that I don’t like. For the last two months, I have been eying the things in my home with a critical eye. Do I love this? Does it give me joy? Do I adore it? If it doesn’t, if it is ugly…bye bye and out the door.

It’s turning out to be a long war. Eighteen years of living here have taken their toll. Though the Good Lord helped with a major jump start, as for the rest of it, I am taking it in baby steps, one room at a time. Paper, tools, clothes, knick-knacks, furniture…you name it, only family and pets are safe from my wrath in this war. If it doesn’t make me or the Man happy…it is out of here.

Permission to Please Myself

Now that I have flipped my switch, so to speak, I have to admit-I am laughing at myself for waiting. The first handful of times that I said “Now that I am Fifty…” out loud, it was almost defiant. It was as if I felt I had to announce my permission to the world, my declaration to the universe that I was taking a stance, not holding back anymore, not allowing myself to take a backseat as the people-pleasing, self-sacrificing servant who somehow never found the time to think about what would make me happy or what my spirit needed to thrive.

Surprisingly, the universe did not shout back. Nor did my family or my friends. Everyone happily said, “do what you need to do, its about time you take care of you.”

The only one who had been holding me back had been me.

Did I always know this in some cobwebbed corner of my mind? Or did I really honestly think that the circle of the universe surrounding me needed my unflinching help and that somehow when I turned fifty they would all suddenly be able to survive and I could then turn my attention to me.  Ah…the magical thinking games we play in our heads.

Turns out the real war I am declaring is on myself.

War Against Self-Bondage

Getting rid of the clutter in my life is only a symptom of the bigger picture. What I have discovered, through journaling and experiencing the journey of turning fifty so far, is that in giving myself permission to truly experience what gives me joy and happiness, I love being surrounded by simplicity and the calmness that comes from it.  My creativity blossoms and expands when I take the time to pay attention to my spirit and nurture it with the environment, nutrition and needs that it is asking for. The more I remove the “shoulds”, the chaos, clutter. resentment and negativity from my life and replace them with permission to enjoy what my own spirit is asking for- being surrounded by beauty, taking in more inspirational stimulus, healthy exercise and nutrition, stimulating friendships and conversations, taking little moments to pamper myself and my family with special indulgences that are good for the body and spirit- the more I continue to thrive and grow.

In fact, the younger, more vibrant and the more connected to the universe and to the flow of creativity I feel.

It’s Not a Magic Number

There is no reason to wait for Fifty. For me, fifty was the year I planned on writing my first novel, (Done.) and I think everything got wrapped up in my mind with that event as the year I would sit down and focus on me. Now that I look back, I can see that over the years I have tried to give myself permission a handful of times and every time took it away from myself for one reason or another subconsciously.  If it takes declaring a very open and public war on myself to keep myself accountable to living an inspired, creative life, then so be it. War it is!

What will it take for you? Do you give yourself permission to take care of your needs? Is this a struggle for you? If it isn’t, can you give the rest of us struggler’s a few pointers? Or better yet, drop me a line, I would love to have you do a guest post!