My Inspiration

"Be a yardstick of quality. Some people aren't used to an environment where excellence is expected." Steve Jobs

I used to be a perfectionist, and it wasn't a pretty sight. I had unrealistic expectations of myself, and was quick to condemn myself when I didn't meet them. I got tired of living that way, so I decided to change it. Once I took the self-imposed pressure off, I found that I actually performed better.

I no longer strive for perfection, but I am a big fan of excellence. If it's worth my time and effort, it's worth doing well. It's worth my best shot.

I am thankful for the people in my life who by their own example of excellence, lift me up and inspire me to do my best.

What about you? Who, in your life, is a yardstick of quality? And have you thanked them lately for inspiring you?

Susan

The Right to Choose

"I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness." Anaïs Nin

Michele Bachman shared with the world that she went to law school because, as a submissive wife, her husband told her to, so she did. Some wondered if she became president, would she be following orders from her husband there as well? So she was asked about her submission, and she said that by submission she meant respect. Hmmmm. Really?

I am not a fan of Mrs. Bachman, her philosophies, religion or politics. However, it brought up an interesting question. Can a woman be a leader in the workplace, in politics, in the world in general, and be the follower at home? Of course she can.

We women have made amazing strides in achieving equality with men. The downtrodden, powerless woman has to submit. She has no choice. To be fully empowered, to have complete control over our choices, and then to choose to cede some of that power to a husband or significant other; now that makes authentic submission a true gift. A strong woman truly appreciates what it means to submit. She owns her power, she feels her power, she exercises her power, and then she gives some of that to the man she loves. We must be extremely careful, however. Power in the hands of an irresponsible, immature or weak man can quickly lead to abuse. Power has no moral will of its own, so we must be very discerning when choosing the right man.

We women today have a lot of choices. I live in a world that my grandmothers could only dream of. Some couples choose an egalitarian relationship. That's great if that works for them. Some couples choose to have the woman be the dominant one. That's great if that works for them. But no woman should ever be ashamed of not wanting to be the leader in her most intimate relationship. That's her choice.

Susan

Viva La Vida

My 7-year-old granddaughter asked her 30-year-old dad what he did for fun when he was a kid, before TV and video games. Young people can sometimes be curious about life back in the day, and certainly our experiences have some relevance. But for the most part, I think it's best for us to spare the younger people our stories about the good old days. Our stories can be kind of a yawn. It's like Lee Trevino said: "The older I get, the better I was."

Some of us act like our best days are behind us. And they most certainly are if we believe that. But I look at it like this. Today is the best day ever. It's the only day we have. And tomorrow? Well, there are no guarantees, but tomorrow can be exciting if we have hopes and dreams and goals. And if we are actively involved in making them come true.

As I write this, there are 36 more hours left in this year. Then 2012 will be here, all bright and shiny and full of promise. My wish for you, my reader, is this: May the best of your past be the worst of your future.

Happy New Year.

Susan

Lyrics to "Viva La Vida" by Guy Berryman, Jonny Buckland, Will Champion and Chris Martin

Dropping Your Guard

When my younger son played high school football, the mom of one of our defensive players had two signs she would hold up at key times. One sign had the letter "D" on it; the other, a picture of a fence. We would all yell, "Dee! Fence!"

After my first ninety days at a new job, it was time for my performance review. My supervisor said that I accepted criticism very well. "You are remarkably non-defensive," she said. That meant a lot to me, mostly because I was involved in a personal relationship for years where I was told how defensive I was. Isn't it interesting how verbally abusive people label others as being defensive? Maybe it's only natural to defend yourself when you're being attacked.

Any of us interested in self-improvement should welcome correction and criticism. None of us is perfect, and if we want to become all that we can be, certainly we will all need some help along the way. Praise and encouragement are wonderful, but we also sometimes need to hear some hard truths. How sad if those who care about us would be less than honest, unwilling to call us out on stuff because we can't handle the truth about ourselves. How sad if they hesitate to ask for what they want or need from us, because we are so easily offended.

Being prickly and defensive puts people off and inhibits closeness with those we love. It also keeps us from being all that we can be. The vast majority of people have no malicious intent, so why not trust them enough to hear what they have to say and see if it has some merit? It just makes absolutely no sense to go on the defense when we're not even being attacked.

Susan

Fence Me In

"Give me land, lots of land, under starry skies above. Don't fence me in." Cole Porter

Funny and entertaining, the piece I was reading was advice to men on how to attract women. How to be more alpha and have more game. The author counseled that you must make a woman feel safe, because she won't have sex with you unless she feels safe. Then he added, "Women are paranoid."

The first place I ever felt safe was at school. My first teacher was a no-nonsense kind of woman who smiled rarely. The other kids said she was mean, but I guess they didn't know what mean was. She was calm and consistent, rarely raising her voice. It was there that I learned a totally new concept: obey the rules and we don't get in trouble. It was wonderfully simple. The rules were few, and they all made sense to me. She didn't bend them, she imposed consequences for those who broke them, and I respected that. Even when someone broke a rule, she didn't belittle or berate or scream. Finally I had a small amount of power in my life. I could control whether or not I got in trouble (at school) by my own behavior, actions and attitudes. The rules weren't there to restrict me; they were there to keep me safe. In the safety of that environment, I soared. I learned so many new things that year, far more than just the academics. I learned that I was smart. I learned that I was good. Other kids chafed at the rules. I guess they felt fenced in and restricted. Or maybe they rebelled just for the sake of rebelling. I felt safe.

I still have no problem following rules that make sense. I appreciate knowing where the boundaries are. For you see, the safer I am, the bolder I become. When I feel safe, I show myself for who I really am. I take the most audacious risks. It's when I am safe that I can really soar. So, yes. Please fence me in.

Susan

How Do We Sleep?

I have the most beautiful set of luggage. Pink trimmed in black, I named it "Barbie luggage." It was a birthday gift from my former husband when we were married. I still use it and I love it! But it does get me singled out at airport security. Without fail. Every time. A male TSA employee will invariably want to look through the contents of the Barbie bag.

It's my only experience with profiling. You see, I am a white American of European descent, born here in the United States. I have no idea what it's like to worry about a police officer pulling me over when I'm driving. I have no idea what it's like to have to work harder and be smarter, to counteract negative stereotypes about my culture. I can go into any hair salon, and the stylists will know what to do with my hair. I can go into any supermarket, and it's full of the type of food I eat. No one makes fun of my "accent." I can buy a car or rent an apartment and never be concerned about discrimination.

My apartment complex has many residents of Mexican descent. Since I am learning Spanish, I occasionally talk to them in my "toddlerese" Spanish. My first sentence is that I am studying Spanish in college, because I don't want to patronize them or give them the idea I don't think they speak English. They all speak way better English than I do Spanish. I have found that my neighbors are overwhelmingly friendly and helpful, although somewhat bemused at my approach. They will gently correct me when I use the wrong word or tense of a verb. One day in the laundry room, a lovely older lady named Juana and I conversed. In Spanish class, we had just finished a chapter about clothing, so as I took my clothes out of the dryer, I told her about my red sweater, my yellow shirt and my green dress.

We white people can come off as really arrogant sometimes. I especially dislike how "immigration" and "protecting our borders against terrorists" and "homeland security" have given people permission to hate those of Mexican descent. It's a political football, and all it does is encourage the haters. Certainly immigration needs to be reformed, but not this way. I think some have forgotten a huge part of California history. California used to belong to Mexico. It's odd how we white people go around taking what isn't ours, then persecuting the very people we took it from. California is a very big and wonderful state. Surely we can find a way to solve some of our problems without all the hating. The white people who do that make me wonder. How do they sleep at night?

Susan

The lyrics to "Beds are Burning" are by Peter Garrett.

Fitting In

"Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer," with Burl Ives as the snowman, is a favorite animated Christmas program of mine. It first aired on television when I was six years old, so I have been watching it for a lot of Christmases. The theme of Rudolph is one that occurs often in children's stories; someone who just doesn't fit in but eventually triumphs. These stories resonate with kids because they understand how painful life can be for a child who is different. Of course, what holds Rudolph down is the very thing that ends up propelling him to new heights. If you have never seen this version of Rudolph, SPOILER AHEAD!

There is the Island of Misfit Toys. The squirt gun that squirts jelly instead of water; the train with square wheels. These are the rejected toys that have no children to love them. It's all very sad, but don't worry. Rudolph makes it all wonderful.

In romantic relationships, we polish ourselves all up and put our best foot forward. Now there's nothing wrong with that. On a first date, things like brushing your teeth and showering are really important. But do we want to impress so much that we hide what we think are our flaws? True intimacy will never happen until we let the other person see who we really are. We seem to keep our fingers crossed that he will love us IN SPITE of our flaws, when the truth is this. The right person will love us BECAUSE of those quirks.

I understand the dynamics of peer pressure. I understand why children and especially adolescents want to conform, but some of us are a little old to keep trying to be what we think other people want. Why not let those little quirks show? For some of us, they are impossible to hide anyway. Like Rudolph trying to hide his bright red nose, our attempts at covering them up are pretty awkward.

Why not give others the opportunity to love us for who we really are?

Susan

You have Loudmouth Birdie (www.loudmouthbirdie.com) to thank for this post. She suggested I write about the Island of Misfit Toys.

The Little Old Lady

"The man who was once starved may revenge himself upon the world not by stealing just once, or by stealing only what he needs, but by taking from the world an endless toll of payment of something irreplaceable, which is the lost faith." Anaïs Nin

According to retail loss prevention experts, the typical American shoplifter is an older white woman. You may have seen her in the shopping aisle near you; that innocent looking old lady with the gray hair and the powder blue sweatshirt with kittens embroidered on it. She's not stealing a loaf of bread because she's destitute and starving. She takes what she neither really wants nor really needs, simply because she can.

What an amazing sense of entitlement that takes. Have you ever noticed that about some older people? How the rules just don't apply to them anymore? How they seem to feel that since they have occupied this planet longer than the rest of us, the world owes them something, and a lot of some things?

Today, I am the youngest I will ever be. And so are you. We are all, if we don't die first, headed toward the golden years of our lives. Those should be years where we get to appreciate the fruits of a life well lived; where we give back to the world with our love and wisdom, helping the younger people who are not so far along in this journey we call life. How tragic if we would fail to create that kind of life for ourselves; that in our bitter disillusionment, we would decide that the world did us wrong and owes us something. That we would steal a little trinket and use it as some sad consolation prize for the life we could have had, but failed to create.

Every day I make decisions that will determine what kind of old lady I will be. The world owes me nothing. But I owe the world something: to be all that I can be. May I never forget that.

Susan

Creating a Monster

She was walking her daschund. He was beautiful; a short-haired standard doxie with a shiny auburn coat and big brown eyes. He was very excited for me to pet him and wanted to jump up. I quickly knelt down to his level, but not before his annoyed dog mother yanked his leash and scolded him. She told me he just doesn't listen. I asked his age, and I when I heard how young he is, I assured her he was just a toddler and his manners would improve as he got older. She looked skeptical. I asked his name. "Monster." Well. What did she expect, naming him that?

It's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Dogs, kids and even we as adults tend to live up to (or down to) expectations. Expect the worst, label them, call them names, point out everything they do wrong while ignoring all the good, and you can turn someone perfectly wonderful into a monster.

As I think about my own life, I need to take complete responsibility for the energy and expectations I bring to my interactions with others. Do my attitudes and behavior call out the best in the people I meet?

Susan

Looking on the Bright Side

Several years ago, I began to look for the good, positive and beautiful things in life and in people. There is a lot of wonderful stuff out there, and I notice it! At first that new way of thinking felt very awkward, but soon it became a habit that has served me really well. I am a much happier person than I used to be. I would never want to go back.

One of the things I've learned about myself this year is this. Sometimes I am so intent on finding the bright side, that I miss important realities. It's all about looking for the good, not pretending it's there by minimizing and rationalizing. Sometimes things are just icky and there's no two ways about it.

So it's time for me to find a balance in this area. I'll keep you posted as to how I do.

Susan

Lyrics to "Mr. Brightside" by Dave Keuning

In-laws and Outlaws

"Take my mother-in-law. Please." Rodney Dangerfield

Over the next few weeks, families will be getting together for the holidays. It won't always be pleasant. I once had a mother-in-law, and now I am one. I believe it is my responsibility as the older, more mature person in the relationship to set a positive, loving tone with my daughter-in-law. She is more to me than my son's wife, although I would love and respect her for that alone. She is more to me than the mother of my grandchildren, although I am very grateful to her for giving me these three wonderful little blessings. She is a unique individual, a woman who deserves to be recognized and appreciated for who she really is.

Do you know the story of mother-in-law Naomi? She lived in a time when women couldn't survive without the protection and provision of men. Her husband died, then soon both her sons (her only children) died. She was, of course, grief-stricken. She also admitted that she was very bitter about her losses. She told her two daughters-in-law that she was going back to her homeland to live with her family. Naomi said she was too old to find another husband, and she had no more sons that the girls could marry. What use was she to anyone? Both her daughters-in-law wept and begged her not to go, but Naomi was determined. So Orpah kissed her goodbye, but Ruth stuck to her like glue. She told her mother-in-law, "Whither thou goest, I will go." So Ruth and Naomi set off for the land of Naomi's birth. They scoped out this awesome man named Boaz, and the older woman gave the younger woman some tips on how to snag him. (Kind of a cool story in the Bible's Book of Ruth.) And it worked. Ruth and Boaz soon gave Naomi her first grandchild. Ruth and Naomi were stuck like glue, and they stayed that way for the rest of their lives.

They both mutually benefitted from their relationship. Had Ruth not gone along with her mother-in-law, she never would have met the awesome Boaz. Had her daughter-in-law not gone along with her, Naomi would have never become a grandmother.

They stuck like glue, because they had a relationship that transcended their prescribed roles in life. Their relationship didn't end when the one person they had in common was out of the picture. It deepened and flourished and grew. The women in the village were very impressed and told Naomi, "Ruth really loves you. That girl is better than seven sons!" That was a huge compliment, given how prized sons were in the ancient world.

Ruth and Naomi are amazing role models for all of us in-laws everywhere. Wouldn't our families be so much happier if we could all have transcendent relationships, ones where we truly enjoy and appreciate each other simply for who we are?

Susan

O Christmas Tree!

"Expectancy is the atmosphere for miracles." Edwin Louis Cole

We have a small, magnificent Christmas tree in our living room. Last year after the holidays, my dear friend/roommate found it. Someone had thrown the live potted tree out, but didn't even bother to take it to the dumpster. She rescued it, and gave it lots of TLC out on our deck for a year. It grew and flourished and has beautiful soft, green branches. This year we brought it inside and decorated it. It's kind of a charming Charlie Brown tree, with lots of character. It is magnificent, all dressed in tinsel and lights and ornaments and beads. My younger son saw it last night for the first time, and he actually gasped. After the holidays, we'll gently take all the trimmings off and put it back outside. Another year of growing and flourishing.

When she rescued it last year, she was told it would not make it. She didn't take no for an answer, and she expected it would do great and it did. The tree reminds me that this is the season of miracles. I wonder how many miracles we miss out on because we never expect them to happen.

Susan

From Sea to Shining Sea

My commute to and from work and school is along Highway 101, which runs parallel to the beautiful Pacific Ocean. With Pink's sun roof open and my window down, I can smell the salty air. I also can easily walk to the beach from my home. Occasionally we even have a random sea gull who comes to my apartment complex to check out the dumpsters. It is hard to have a bad day when you start it by saying "Good Morning" to the ocean.

Growing up in one of the landlocked mid-Atlantic states, I never even saw an ocean until I was in my 20's. In elementary school, we sang Katharine Lee Bates' "America the Beautiful." Our little voices would ring out, "And crown thy good with brotherhood, from sea to shining seeeeeeeeea!"

One day as I was driving along, the sun was shining brightly on the ocean, and it hit me: that's a shining sea. It really does shine, from the reflection of the sun or the moon if the moon is bright enough at night.

I have a great life.

Susan

When I Grow Up...

All my life I worked at jobs that paid the bills, but never had a real career, and certainly never did anything that gave me fulfillment or joy. Then I began to take general education classes at community college, after being out of school for over thirty years. I decided to work toward my bachelor's degree, without any real goal in mind. I just wanted to be on my way, but I wasn't really sure where I was going. I decided I could be getting my credits, and figure out a major as I went along.

A couple of weeks ago it came to be with perfect clarity. I am going to be a middle school teacher. It kind of surprised me. I never wanted to be a teacher, and frankly I wouldn't have had the patience when I was a younger woman. So now I am not only on my way, but I know my destination. It is very exciting to know what I want to be when I grow up.

Last night my dear friend/roommate had the radio on a classical station, and "Pomp and Circumstance" by Sir Edward Elgar came on. I visualized myself marching to get my college diploma, from the same school my younger son graduated from. "Pomp and Circumstance." They were playing my tune!

Susan

My Pretend Friend

She was my imaginary friend, Betty Baccuba. Pronounced "Buh-COO-buh," in case you're wondering. No one ever saw her but me. I remember one day my father and I were driving, just the two of us, and I pointed out Betty's house. He asked me if I wanted to stop and see her, and I quickly told him she was not home. I haven't seen or talked to Betty for years, and you're probably thinking that's a good thing.

Last New Year's Eve, one of my intentions for 2011 was "truth in all areas of my life." Now that the year has only two weeks left in it, I have been thinking back to the all the many places truth has taken me this year. One of those places was in my relationships. The other day a coworker said to me, "You're the most honest person I've ever known." I felt a tightening of my throat and a little sting behind my eyes, because I have walked through this year for the most part in truth, and it was quite a compliment to have that recognized. But that hasn't always been the case. I've done more than my share of pretending. Harmless, innocent pretending, like back when Betty and I were besties. Young children who are intelligent and imaginative have pretend friends. Children who are abused do, too. I was all three of those things.

As I head toward another New Year's Eve, I see that my relationships lack pretense. I am kind and loving, but honest. I don't pretend that things are fine when they're not. I cry more easily. I let people see who I am more readily. I am learning to ask for what I need and want. I still have a long way to go, but I feel really good about how far I have come this year; how far truth has taken me.

Betty Baccuba served her purpose, but I don't have any pretend friends anymore. There was a time when the little Susie must have needed that imaginary friend desperately, but not anymore. I don't need self-defense mechanisms like pretending, because I now surround myself with people who have absolutely no interest in hurting me. Real people who love the real me. And that's the truth.

Susan

Mildred's Manners

If you have kids, or plan to have kids, or if you ever were a kid...

A Christmas to Call Your Own

It is, as the song tells us, the most wonderful time of the year. Except when it's not. Christmas can be a stressful time. The financial pressures of buying gifts can be too much for people who are barely getting by. The sadness of that first Christmas after a loved one passes away. The pressure applied by family members who want you to be in three different cities on Christmas day. The stress women put on themselves to have the perfect meal, the perfectly set table, the perfect Christmas tree. Our culture sets the bar really high for merriment and jolliness, and feeling neither merry nor jolly, we decide there must be something wrong with us.

Like all things in life, Christmas is what you make it to be. It is completely open to your own unique interpretation of it. When you take away the expectation of what you think it should be, because your parents did it a certain way, or your culture celebrates it a certain way, you can begin to make Christmas truly your own. I personally don't celebrate the religious aspects of the holiday, but I adore Christmas. A Hindu woman I met is blending our American Christmas into her life and ethnicity. She started out doing it for her children, so they would have a tree and presents and Santa Claus like the other kids, but she is really finding joy in it for herself as well.

What is Christmas to me? The magical fantasy of Charles Dickens and Charles Schulz. Red and green and blue and silver. The tinsel in the carpet and the raw cookie dough on my tongue. Shopping for gifts for my grandkids: getting them what they want and not what I think would be the most fun for me to play with. Remembering all the people, near and far, who are dear to me. Believing, really believing, in peace on earth and good will to men. Maybe not throughout the world (not yet) but making it a reality in my own life. Hearing Elvis sing "Blue Christmas" and watching innumerable you tube videos of "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas."

There is no perfect Christmas. It doesn't exist, no matter how much money you spend or how much stress you put yourself under. You will never have the perfect Christmas. But you can have a Christmas that is perfect for you.

Susan

No Strings Attached

"There are two kinds of people: takers and givers. The takers eat better, but the givers sleep better." Danny Thomas

Gift giving is such a fun part of the holidays. Buying or making something special for those we love is a real joy. Many times the best gifts are not the ones that cost the most, but the ones that say the most. I love you. I remembered you. I know you well enough to know what you would love to have.

It's not truly a gift unless it's given freely with absolutely no strings attached. If you give a gift with the expectation of something in return, why that is no gift at all. It's currency. Some folks give, but their gifts come at a very high price for the recipient. An imbalance of power in the relationship. A sense of obligation. A feeling of being controlled. These can be subtle messages, and sometimes the giver is not even aware that he is conveying that message.

Are you a giver? I love to give, but lately I have been examining my motives for doing so. I have been picking up those shiny packages that I give to others, turning them all around and shaking them, just to make sure there are no strings attached.

Susan

A Cup of Cheer

It's the time of year for hot apple cider, spicy sweet tea and peppermint mocha coffee. And hot chocolate. With whipped cream on top, of course. As far back as I can remember, another important part of Christmas has been the red kettles and bell ringers standing on street corners and in front of markets. Yesterday, we had some unusual weather where I live. It was gray and cold and raining very hard. Shoppers were rushing in and out of the stores, trying to avoid the weather. He was standing under an awning, but still it was cold and damp and the rain was coming down sort of sideways so he was getting a little wet. He was ringing the bell and smiling and saying, "Merry Christmas," even when no one put money in the kettle. Even when no one "Merry Christmased" him back.

My first thought was that I should get him a hot drink. I didn't act on it instantly, because I was cold and tired and eager to hop in Pink and get home. But soon I obeyed my initial impulse and walked over to the nearby coffee shop. I bought him a cup of hot chocolate. Everyone likes hot chocolate, right? With whipped cream on top, of course. I carried the cup to him and held it out. "Here's some hot chocolate. To keep you warm," I said. I didn't tell him there was whipped cream on it. I let that be a surprise. He looked at me for a few seconds, then took the cup and said, "Wow. Thank you." I said, "Merry Christmas" and hurried on my way.

I need to tell you this story, but not to toot my own horn. It was such a small thing for me to do. It cost me ten minutes out of my day and two dollars out of my pocket. I need to tell you this story, because of the expression on his face. He was shocked. The look on his face told me that strangers don't offer him cups of hot chocolate on a regular basis.

If such a small gesture causes such a reaction, then I need to be obeying my initial impulses of kindness much more often. And not just at Christmas. Kindness should not happen so rarely that it engenders such shock and awe.

Now I have a question for you. Who is it today that could use a cup of cheer from you?

Susan

I Got a Name

The name Susan was second only to Mary in popularity for girls the year I was born, according to the Social Security Administration. From 1948 until 1964, Susan was in the top twenty every single year. When I was a kid, I wasn't all that fond of my name, precisely for that reason. How unoriginal my parents were, I thought. Such a common name. It would have been cool to be a Stacey or a Stephanie. But as the years have gone by, I have grown to love my name. I'm Susan, Susie, Sue, Suzie, Soozie and Sue Z Q. It's who I am. It is my name.

I had the option of having my maiden name automatically restored when I divorced. I didn't do that. My last name is who I am. It was my former husband's name, which I gladly took when I married him. Then it became who I am. It is my name.

During this time of year, we remember all the people close to us, with gifts and cards. But what about those who make up the landscape of our lives? The woman who packs our groceries. The man who collects our garbage. The mail carrier, who is overworked during the holiday season, delivering packages and Christmas cards. Certainly they would enjoy getting a little extra cash or a gift card or a homemade treat. Which brings me to another point. Do we even know their names? They have names. What a great opportunity Christmas gives us to introduce ourselves and then to discover who they are.

Susan

Lyrics to "I Got a Name" by Norman Gimbel and Charles Fox