Sunday, March 19, 2017

Without Sacagawea

Blizzard Stella Notes:

Blizzards are fun because everything stops. Everything gets very quiet and muted. Cozy fire, eating, naps. But watching multiple episodes of Chopped on Netflix is exhausting. The tension alone...So, in an effort to pull out of our weird indoor stupor, Claire and I went out with shovels and lay in the driveway. Shoveling snow is a major cross fit activity, minus jumping up on boxes while praying that both feet will land at the same time.

Why do people do that?

During the 40 mph wind gusts, Claire had a blizzard riff on Sacagawea.

Act One

Claire: Can you imagine being a soldier in the Revolutionary War? In winter? With deer hair for shoes?

Me: Rags.

Claire: And how about Sacagawea?

Me: Sacagawea?        

Claire: She was 16 years old, a year younger than me, when she took Lewis and Clark on their explorations. And, she was pregnant!

Me: Sacagawea was pregnant when she was helping those guys?

Claire: Yes, her husband was a French explorer and when Lewis + Clark asked if he knew anybody who could help them he said, take my wife. She'll guide you.

Me: Nice guy.

Claire: So Sacagawea was like, let's do this. And then...

Me: Then what happened? To Sacagawea?  [I love saying her name]

Claire: That winter she had her baby.

Me: Sacagawea had the baby out on the trail? With Lewis and Clark? Where?

Claire: Who knows, in a hut made of squirrel skins. She barely took time out. She had her son, then kept on going. All I'm saying is without Sacagawea, there would be no Louisiana Purchase.

Me: Can you imagine if those guys got pregnant?

Claire: Trust me, Mom. Without Sacagawea, those guys would've never made it.

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

do not wait

Do not wait for someone to come and speak for you. It's you who can change the world.

- Malala Yousafzai

In the spirit of International Women's Day, I'm thinking about comfort zones, particularly in our work lives. They can feel pretty and cozy because it's so familiar. But familiar can turn into a small box with a tiny smudged window.  If you're called to move forward into unknown territory but stay out of fear, there'll come a day when you spread your arms and can touch both walls. 

Feeling cramped yet?

Outside is light, trees, blue sky, cornfields, a skyscraper, possibilities.   

Do not wait for someone to come and speak for you.

Why do we stay inside?

Fear of the unknown. 
Fear of not knowing how. 
Fear of failure. 
Fear of succeeding.

There's so many things I don't know, but I'm curious to learn. 🌀

I will... 
keep writing
make short films
create a dynamic podcast
get my book(s) published


What do you want? Keep asking,then do 1 thing.

Boxes and fear and cornfields reminds me of a piece I wrote about home and work and resumes. Resumes are only one map of your life. They've always felt like small, finite, frustrating boxes to me.

Here's the end...

Resumes say nothing of blood and bones or the last whisper in my father's dying ear, or my husband's voice on the phone from Los Angeles where he lives and works, more there, than here. My resume says nothing of zinnias in my garden, women weeping over their own words on white paper, my daughter's rise from breast cancer. Resumes say nothing of longing and love. 

xo b

                     a bed of journals