Ageless Passions by Karen Putz

Category: Uncategorized

  • RaVen Sequoia, ASL Tutor

    Tell me about your job. How did you get into this line of work?

    I am an American Sign Language Master Tutor/Mentor and Evaluator for ASL VRS interpreters. I’m currently studying Language Hunter’s Techniques as we invent a lot of helpful techniques that enables learning any foreign languages quickly.

    By fate, I got into ASL Tutoring through a Deaf ASL teacher who noticed my potentials to teach. He made a huge impression in my life, planting a seed which paved my way to where I am today. After he died of aids, I vowed to become the best ASL teacher for individuals struggling to learn ASL – as with learning challenges I have, I truly understand what it’s like to be ignored in an overcrowded classroom. So, for years I’ve mentored numerous ASL teachers and attended many ASLTA workshops which gave me some clues to better my career. The rest I invented methods to jump start students to quickly grasp what was needed to learn.

    What is the best part of your job?

    I love seeing students who have failed in their ASL course and in one term, come back with a grade A average and seeing their faces lit up with joy. The same goes for any students who were shunned by other ASL teachers swearing they had no hope and I was able to help them understand ASL and become fluent over time.

    What are some of the challenges of your job?

    I guess the most challenging aspect of my tutoring job is technical issues. I’m still learning how to problem solve technical issues such as faulty connections with Skype, web-cam or a videophone, things along that nature. My second challenge is finding more ASL students to teach one on one.

    What was it like growing up deaf/hard of hearing?

    It was a very difficult childhood dealing with constant audism– oppression from hearing family, hearing teachers, hearing friends, hearing doctors, the entire hearing non-community. The older I got, the higher hearing people’s unrealistic expectations became increasingly burdensome. Thankfully one of my favorite teacher who truly understood my issue persuaded my family to let me go to Model Secondary School

    for the Deaf. It was then I learned to accept my Deafness with pride and embraced ASL Culture.

    What advice would you give a deaf/HH person who is looking for a career like yours?

    My advice is to learn all you can learn about American Sign Language – literally taking all of the ASL classes, ASL linguistics and workshops – even if you’re fluent already to understand how students learn. Always be brave to experiment with various methods that is not traditional – we’re here to serve hard working students who wish to master ASL. Accept the fact that there’s always room for improvement with your teaching ability. Learn from a master ASL tutor/mentor who has a high success rate of fluent ASLstudents to save you time, energy, and errors. Be patient and polite with your ASL students and have fun in your sessions.

    WWW.ASLmasterTutor.com

    Email: ASLmasterTutor@gmail.com

  • What I Learned from Physical Torture

    I heard horror stories about physical therapy so I was kind of dreading the whole process after my ACL reconstruction surgery. The first visit went pleasantly enough.  “Oh, it’s not too bad,” I told my family and friends after the initial knee manipulation.

    The second visit was a different story. I nearly jumped off the table when the therapist began massaging my incisions. One in particular was a bit swollen and extremely painful. “You shouldn’t be feeling this much pain,” the therapist said as she continued to press down on the incision. “Looks like you’re building up scar tissue. We have to work that out.” More pain. I held back a scream.

    Then there was the famous “bending of the knee.”  Despite repeated icing of the knee, mine remained swollen, making it even more difficult (and painful) to bend it. I was pretty darn proud of my 93 degree bend on the first visit.

    And then I was introduced to the bike. You know that contraption– it requires more than a 90 degree bend to get those pedals going ’round and ’round. I pushed the first pedal down and tried to bend the knee to bring it back up.

    Holy freaking moly! Pain! Worse than childbirth! (And I gave birth at home.)

    I looked at the therapist and whimpered.  “I don’t think I can do this.”

    “Just pedal slowly.”  She set a timer on the bike stand. “Nine minutes.”

    She stood there, watching me grimace in pain as I brought the pedal up. I felt like someone was taking a sledgehammer to the knee every time I reached the top. I made it up and over, but not without shifting my hip up and riding on my other foot.

    “Good!  Do it again!”

    There was no way out. I just closed my eyes and tried to get into that zone– the same zone that comes from hypnotherapy. The breathing. The visualization. The knee screamed with every pedal rotation.  There was no way out of the pain– only through it.

    Just two minutes into the physical torture on the bike, I noticed a big shift in the pain level. By the end of the nine minutes, the knee was moving ’round and ’round at a much more manageable pain level.

    On the next visit, I had a friendly little competition going with the teenager on the table next to me. She had the same surgery a day before mine. So we gripped our green straps and pulled our knees back, trying not to grimace as our therapists measured our progress. I managed to reach 112 degrees, but the young one hit 115 degrees of bend.

    After spending the entire weekend icing the knee, I figured I would hit those numbers easy at the next therapy session.  “107 degrees,” the therapist announced.

    “You gotta be kidding me!” I said. “What number should I be at by now?”

    “I’d like to see 120.”

    “Fine, you want 120? I’ll give you 120.”  It took several tries and a lot swearing inside my head, but I hit that magical number.

    The body’s first instinct with pain is to react and withdraw. To get far away as possible from pain. To not have to feel it. But ironically, to heal from anything, to give birth to something new, pain is a necessary component to growth.  This applies to just about anything in life.

    Physical therapy is like life. The only way to heal, to rebirth, to move on– is by working through the pain that’s holding you back.

    “We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.”   –Kenji Miyazawa

  • Deaf and Barefooting Worlds Collide

    Four years ago, Jodi Cutler and I connected in the blogosphere as parents of deaf/hard of hearing kids and bloggers.  Her blog,  An American Mom in Tuscany: Jordan’s Cochlear Implant Story chronicles her life in Italy with her son, Jordan.  After years of connecting via the written word, I gave her a call and we talked on the phone for the first time.  The ZVRS interpreter had amazing skills and the conversation flowed smoothly.  I was so excited to finally connect with Jodi via phone.

    After we ended our conversation, I quickly thanked the interpreter and was about to hang up.  “Wait, don’t hang up!” she signed.  “Are you a barefooter?”

    “Yup!” I said. I figured she must have read my story in the media in the past year.  She pointed to a picture that was propped up on a desk behind me.  “I recognized Keith St. Onge!” she said.  “He taught me ten years ago in a clinic in Ohio!”

    Deaf World.  Barefooting World.  Bam!

    Jess and I skyped one night and she shared her story.  Jess was in fourth grade when her father bought a Ski Nautique and he taught her to water ski. Her father grew up on the Ohio river and he loved hamming it up on the water.  “He could ski on a paddle!” Jess said.  A year later, they saw a guy barefooting and Jess was fascinated.  “I want to learn that!” she told her dad.  So he went over and asked the guy to teach her.  Gripping the boom outfitted in a long-sleeve wetsuit with a vest on top, Jess put her feet on the water and skied away.  “I thought it was the coolest thing!”

    And boy, was she hooked.  Her parents bought property on a private lake.  Jess wanted to learn more, so she taught herself.  In the mid-1990s, she pulled up video after video of Keith St. Onge on the Barefoot Central website and watched them over and over.  She learned the deep water start off the five-foot line through a lot of trial and error.  Jess became friends with another barefooter on the lake, Ron Kara, who trained with Keith in Florida.  “Ron taught me to barefoot backwards, I think in ninth grade,” said Jess. “I struggled with backwards– I couldn’t get my chest off the water.  I ended up bleeding and bruised, but I wouldn’t give up.”  It took Jess a year, but when she finally got up backwards on her feet, it was a sweet achievement.

    Jess joined the Sea World ski show in Ohio when she was sixteen.  Barefooting in a ski show was a whole other form of barefooting– Jess had to get used to skiing in all kinds of water and weather conditions.  Ron brought Keith to Ohio, and he worked with Jess to improve her skills.

    One day, after Sea World practice, Jess was sitting on a bench waiting for her father to pick her up.  She noticed a girl sitting next to her and began to make conversation.  The girl pointed to her ear and shook her head.  “I realized she was deaf, so I remembered some sign language that I learned in second grade and signed to her,” said Jess.  Hi, my name is Jess, she signed and fingerspelled.

    That encounter unwrapped another passion for Jess.  She wanted to learn American Sign Language so she signed up for a class.  After high school, she went to the University of Pittsburg and then transferred to McDaniel in Maryland.  She graduated with a degree in Deaf Education, with minors in education, deaf studies and art history.  “I’m an overachiever,” Jess chuckled.  After teaching in a public school, Jess realized that she wanted to work in a one-on-one setting, so she decided to pursue a Masters in counseling at Gallaudet University, where classes are taught in American Sign Language. She now has her own private practice: Counseling for Children and Young Adults.

    “I stopped barefooting in college, but that summer, I wanted to get back into it,” said Jess.   Her father did some research and located Dave Miller, a competitive barefooter near the D.C./Virginia area.  Jess got back on the water in 2005 and continued to improve her skills.

    I was so thrilled to connect with Jess and invited her to ski at the World Barefoot Center Women’s Barefoot week next year.  An interpreter who barefoots– wow, that’s a path connected by a higher power!  After we ended our skype conversation, I was thankful for one thing:  my procrastination, project-to-project jumping, and disorganization. My nickname may be Skippy because of that, but if I had nailed that picture on another wall like I intended to do weeks ago, I would have hung up on that phone call without two worlds colliding.

  • Happy Birthday Diego: The Honor of Attending a Birth

    Diego is two today, but the memories of his birth are as fresh as ever!  Happy birthday Diego!

    For six long days, Juliet’s labor started on and off. Every night, I tucked my phone under my pillow, waiting for the vibration that would signal the real deal. On Mon., Dec. 21, the phone sprang into action and I awoke at 6:30 a.m. to a text saying that the contractions were pretty strong and that the midwife was on her way over. We agreed to wait until the midwife arrived and then see if I should be on my way.

    Juliet and I met a few years back, when her daughter, Paula, was a toddler. I worked as a deaf mentor in the state’s early intervention program and provided mentoring services to her family, teaching sign language and answering questions about growing up hard of hearing and becoming deaf. Juliet and I connected in more ways than one – we both shared a love of writing and an interest in natural birth. When Juliet became pregnant with her second baby, I casually offered to be a doula for her. She took me up on the offer. We met for lunch and discussed her plans for the upcoming birth.

    Years ago, I studied to become a doula with the intention of making a career out of it. I had the honor of attending several births, including an amazing home water birth where the midwife walked in as the mom was pushing. My third child was born at home, but since I was induced with Cytotec, his birth wasn’t quite the “natural” birth that I had anticipated. I later went on to write an article for Midwifery Today about the dangers of Cytotec and a chapter in the book, “Don’t Cut Me Again.” As the years progressed, the idea of becoming a full-time doula took a back seat to my other jobs.

    I was looking forward to attending Juliet’s homebirth that morning, but she soon texted to say that the contractions had stopped completely. At 4 p.m., her water broke. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed the ingredients for the soup that I planned to make and headed out into the rush hour. I figured it would take me an hour to get there, but the cars in front of me moved aside and let me pass.

    When I arrived, Juliet was in the middle of hard labor but still smiling and talking. Joel, her husband, was holding her and rocking her back and forth. I took one look at Juliet’s legs and ankles- she was retaining quite a bit of water and her skin looked as if it would burst. I sat down to massage her legs and feet and get some of the swelling down. Paula was bouncing back and forth between the rooms, stopping to rub Juliet’s shoulder and then running off to watch a movie in her room.

    “Are you excited about meeting your baby brother or sister?” I signed.

    “Yes, I am!”

    Paula chattered and signed and moved in circles, going from her parent’s bedroom and back in to her own. I could literally feel the excitement radiating from her. She furrowed her brow when the contractions came in waves and Juliet vocalized her pain, but quickly smiled when we reassured her that everything was moving along as it should.

    The labor slowed a bit. During that time, Juliet’s husband stayed with her and I read a few books to Paula. After a while, I joined the midwife and her apprentice in the living room as we waited for labor to speed up again. The soup was cooking slowly on the stove and we helped ourselves to some dinner.

    Juliet was incredibly tired from the six days of on and off labor and it was beginning to show on her face. She pushed in several different positions, trying to get rid of the lip that was stubbornly hanging on. She moved to the birth stool and slowly, the baby began moving down. It wasn’t quite fast enough for Juliet.

    “Tell me you’re feeling some ears!” she said to the midwife. “You better be feeling ears!” The midwife laughed.

    Juliet moved back to the bed. Joel held up one leg and I held the other and everyone gave some encouraging words. Juliet threw herself into every push, finding energy deep down for each one. “That was a good one!” the midwife said. I looked down and saw the baby’s head begin to appear.

    “Juliet! Feel your baby! Your baby is being born!” I said. Juliet reached down and then gave a huge push. The head. Another push. The shoulders. Several more pushes. Then a whole baby.

    Diego Ruben, at a hefty 8 pounds, 6 ounces, entered the world at 9:40 p.m. on December 21st. The winter solstice, a day that signifies the birth of winter and the longest night.

    What a beautiful night.

  • EntreLeadership: A Playbook for Life

    When Dave Ramsey’s signed copy of EntreLeadership arrived in the mail, I settled down for the night and figured I would read a few pages.  Two hours later, it was one a.m. when I turned out the light.  Yup, the book captivated me right from the start.  Bill Kybels, a senior pastor from Willow Creek Church, summed up my feelings about the book:

    “I love this book! One minute Dave sounds like a Harvard prof, and the next minute he is coming at you like an alley fighter!  Either way you will wind up being a better leader.”

    You cannot lead without passion,  Dave writes.   How true this is.  The most successful leaders are driven by passion, and it is this passion that sustains them year after year.  After reading the chapter on passion, I immediately thought of Hands & Voices. When I first joined this parent-driven organization, there were just three chapters. I agreed to start the fourth chapter– only because I saw the passion that burned in the eyes of Leeanne Seaver and Janet DesGeorges.  Their passion mirrored my own, and I knew I found a home in this organization.  If there’s a testimonial to the power of passion that leads, then Hands & Voices embodies it.  In less than ten years, we went from a handful of chapters to world wide.

    But back to the book.  At first glance, one might simply think this is a business book about leadership, nothing more.  At first, I wondered what I might get out of it– after all, I’m a mom, a writer, an early intervention provider and a board member.  But then I remembered that I’m also a Send Out Cards distributor, and hello… that’s a business.  And since I’m at the beginning of it all, I’m where Dave was back when he set up a card table in his living room.  Dave calls this his playbook, in fact, he calls this a “championship playbook for business.”  But I find that definition to be too narrow.  When I turned the last page of this book, I realized it was so much more than just about leadership in business. It was in fact, a playbook for life.

    Throughout the whole book, I found myself underlining bits of wisdom that I could apply to every day life.  One of my favorites: “You are never too old. You are never the wrong color. You are never too disabled. You are never the wrong political party. There is never a big enough obstacle to keep a person with passion operating in a higher calling from winning. ”  Good stuff.  And it applies to anything in life.

    You know what else I liked about this book? Dave opens up wide about the mistakes he made along the way and shows how he evolved as a leader.  How many times have we placed someone on a pedestal and thought to ourselves, “I’m not like them, they’re so successful, so good at what they do, I could never get to where they are.”  So we don’t even bother to try. We don’t push ourselves and test our limits, because we’re measuring ourselves against someone who has paid the price to get where they are today.

    Not only is Dave a great leader, but he happens to be a barefoot water skier as well.  Deep into the book, in a chapter about recognizing others, he shares a tidbit about Keith St. Onge, the two-time World Barefoot Champion:

    “Because of our success and the media I do, I have been blessed to meet many famous and world-class people.  A few years ago I met and became friends with the world champion in a particular sport.  I was a little worried that he would be arrogant and instead he was gentle, kind, polite, and an amazing athlete.  As we talked late one night at my kitchen table he told me of the untold hours and sacrifice his father had gone through to help him train through his teenage years.  He humbly attributed his world champion status to his dad’s encouragement and sacrifice.”

    Without Keith knowing, Dave sent a two-page letter to his parents, Claude and Jackie, sharing what he observed from working with Keith and thanking them for being great parents.  “I was totally emotional reading it,” said Claude. “Having Dave compliment our son and us– well, I had tears of joy. I read it more than once.”

    “When I got that letter, I felt so proud,” said Jackie.  “For a long time, I didn’t feel that I had anything to do with his success. I was grateful that Dave took the time to share what he thought about Keith, that he expressed his feelings in a letter to us.”

    The ripple of that letter goes on.  When I first read a copy of Dave’s letter to Keith’s parents a year ago, I started to become more aware of how I could recognize and honor others in my life.  I sent out cards, letters and emails and took more time to acknowledge the impact of those I’ve crossed paths with. And that’s what EntreLeadership will do for you– it’s not just a playbook for businesses, it’s a playbook for life.  Dave ends the book saying, “Go make a difference in the way business is conducted.”  But you won’t change just the way you conduct business, you’ll change the way you journey through life.

     

     

  • When Your Only Option is a Thong

    It was one of those weeks.  Dishes piled high in the sink. Couch cushions skewed all over, with one of them on the floor.  Paperwork in a heap in the corner of the kitchen counter. Somewhere in the middle of the paperwork pile sat three envelopes.  School registrations, I reminded myself.  Gotta get those school registrations sent in.

    But first, I needed to jump in the shower and get myself dressed.  The oldest kid had to be at football camp in 40 minutes. It was a 25 minute drive to his school.  I quickly showered and headed off to the closet to grab some clothes. One look into the underwear drawer and I knew I was in trouble.  All I could find were a large pile of bras, a misplaced sock and a bathing suit.  My eyes turned to the laundry basket–it was over flowing. I was clearly out of underwear.

    Scrounging through the drawer, I discovered bras that were past their prime. I kept them around for those painting projects that never seemed to materialize.  You know, for those days where you don’t want to have a painting accident and mess up the pretty lace bras.

    Digging through the underwires, my hand struck paydirt.

    A thong.

    Yes, a thong.  A tiny scrap of material from my college days. I don’t think the hubby even remembered that I had one.  Heck, I didn’t even remember that I had one.

    Now keep in mind, I was zillions of pounds lighter in my college days. But here’s the thing, a thong is very forgiving of the flesh.  Since there’s barely anything to cover, anyone of any size can get away with wearing them. Sure enough, I was able to slip the thing on and quickly got dressed.

    By the time I dropped the kid off at school, I remembered why the tiny scrap of material went unused. It’s like having a permenant wedgie when you’re wearing it.

    I went home and did laundry. The underwear drawer was quickly filled.

    The thong went in the garbage.

     

    This post originally appeared on the Chicago Moms Blog.

  • Giving Away a Signed Copy of ‘Aspire’ by Kevin Hall

    One of my treasured books is Aspire, Discovering Your Purpose Through the Power of Words, by Kevin Hall.  Kevin and I connected last summer when he reached out on Facebook and we struck up a conversation about barefoot water skiing.  I read his book last August and Aspire instantly became one of several books that I recommended to just about anyone I talked to.

    Aspire, Are You Living Your Life’s Purpose?

    “Dive in with all your heart, follow your bliss, and people will appear to help you with what you want most,” Kevin wrote in an email.  And that’s exactly what I did in the year after I read Aspire.  And just as Kevin said, people began appearing to help me achieve new things.  For instance, I wanted to barefoot every month of 2011.  A crazy idea, actually. I certainly wasn’t sure how that was going to happen, especially since I’m from Chicago– where the lakes are frozen a couple months out of the year.  But as of this month, I have barefoot water skied 11 months out of the year.  Just last Saturday, I barefooted in Wisconsin for the Freeze4Life fundraiser. I only missed one month, in April.  You can read more here:  Following Your Bliss (printed in the Chicago Tribune TribLocal, June 2011.)

    Kevin kindly sent me several copies of his book for family members and one copy for me to give away to my readers. Winner will be randomly chosen.  To enter, leave a comment (comments will be closed Friday, December 9 at midnight CST) that shares your thoughts on the following paragraph from Aspire:

    “The first thing I do when I’m coaching someone who aspires to stretch, grow and go higher in life is to have that person select the one word that best describes him or her.”

    Artist. Wordsmith. Communicator. Peacekeeper. Perfectionist. Manager. Organizer. Leader. Connecter. Director. Musician.

    “There are no restrictions other than it must be only one word, and the ultimate decision is up to you,” he writes.

    What is your word?

    Leave a comment and share your word, and you may soon hold a copy of Aspire in your hands.

     

    Update:  The new owner of a signed copy of Aspire is Angela Botz from Illinois who was number 13 in the comments!

     

     

  • When are You Going to Start Living?

    This morning, I came across a post written by Bronnie Ware who worked in palliative care for many years.  It is a post that I think everyone should read:

    Top Five Regrets of the Dying

    To sum it up, the top five regrets are:

    • I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me
    • I wish I didn’t work so hard
    • I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings
    • I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends
    • I wish that I had let myself be happier

    In the last weeks before my dad passed away, we reflected back a bit on his life.  One of the big highlights was a trip we took to Hawaii.  That trip was a result of a casual conversation in the spring of 2008.  “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?” I asked him.  He had always wanted to visit Pearl Harbor.

    “So what’s stopping you?” I asked.

    Oh, someday I’ll go, he said.  Dad served two years in World War II and he wanted to see the place that altered the course of his life as a teen.  We continued to talk about our “someday” dreams.  Then I stopped and looked at him.  “This ‘someday’ you’re talking about,  really, what’s stopping you?” I wanted to know.  “Why don’t you plan a trip? You’re not getting any younger and someday you might not be able to move around,” I joked.

    And then I got serious. “And this ‘someday’ might not happen if you wait around for it too long.”

    “Ok, fine, you plan it, then!” he smiled.  The next thing he knew, I booked airline tickets to Hawaii and my sister arranged for a hotel.  A few weeks later, we were on a plane to Hawaii. We spent the first two days at Pearl Harbor.  Dad was filled with war stories and he really opened up.  My mom, my sister and I– we soaked it all in.  We knew how important this trip was to him. We went to the Dole Plantation where we feasted on pineapple ice cream, rode the train and walked in a glorious garden with amazing flowers.  We took a boat ride on the other side of Oahu, where we saw a whale.  We took a sunset cruise on a cloudy night, but for a few glorious moments, the clouds parted and we captured the most amazing sunset.

    And days before he fell into a coma from the cancer, we talked about that trip to Hawaii.  The memories were sweet ones. “Thank God we did that trip,” I said. “I’m glad we didn’t put it off for ‘someday.’”

     

    There’s a little ditty that I came across awhile back and the author is unknown.  The words are profound:

    First, I was dying to finish my high school and start college.
    And then I was dying to finish college and start working.

    Then I was dying to marry and have children.
    And then I was dying for my children to grow old enough so I could go back to work.

    But then I was dying to retire.
    And now I am dying…

    And suddenly I realized…
    I forgot to live.

    So let me ask you, what are you putting off for “someday?”  When are you going to start living?

     

     

     

     

     

  • Meeting Janet Attwood, Author of The Passion Test

    “You have to read The Passion Test,” said my friend, Stephen Hopson last year. Stephen is a transformational speaker who is also deaf and he’s a dear friend of mine. I was a little hesitant about ordering yet another book, because I had promised the hubby not to add any more books to the piles around the house.  But there I was, sitting in front of the computer, trusting the recommendation of my friend and ordering Janet and Chris Attwood’s book.

    A year later, what can I say… The Passion Test, along with Aspire by Kevin Hall,  and the Yes to Success workshop with Debra Poneman changed my life.  I created a vision board and vision list.   “When you are clear, what you want will show up in your life, and only to the extent that you are clear,” I learned from The Passion Test. There were specific things that I wanted to accomplish and I wrote them all down.  I knew the order of my passions. The list was a long one, but I didn’t hold back.   Between the books and the workshop, life was going in a whole new direction. “Passions are about process. Goals are about outcomes,” Janet and Chris wrote. People who have witnessed the change in my life the last year and half have remarked that I seem to always be having fun.  But that’s exactly what life is about– having fun, enjoying it to the fullest and being happy in the process.  And when life lines up with your passions and your purpose, then it is indeed filled with lots of joy.

    Whenever you are faced with a choice, a decision, or an opportunity, choose in favor of your passions.

    “Meet Janet Attwood,” was on my vision list, and last night, I spent a magical two hours in the company of Janet Attwood as she shared her journey that lead to the book and her amazing life. Earlier in the week, I had an interpreter lined up along with a back up interpreter.  Both ended up not being able to attend. At the last minute, I made countless calls to try and locate another interpreter.  I resigned myself to a night of lipreading, but as it turned out, Janet was so easy to understand that I was able to sit back and enjoy the evening.

    Tomorrow, I’ll be heading to Chicago to soak in another day with Janet.  This workshop is hosted by Positive Focus Productions.  Janet will focus on:

    • How to discover your top five passions
    • The one secret that guarantees a passionate life
    • The three keys to creating anything you choose to have in your life
    • Learn how to live with less anxiety and fear
    • Experience a deeper connection with the most important people in your life including yourself
    • Experience a new sense of vigor and well-being

    The Passion Test is featured in the November issue of Oprah’s O Magazine. Quite simply, it will change your life.

    Following Your Bliss

     

  • What Barefooting Taught Me About Life

    A year and half ago– March, 2010 — when I put my feet down on the water for the first time at the World Barefoot Center, I had no clue how much my life was going to change from that moment. That morning, I almost wanted to chicken out. I was nervous about being in a boat with people I didn’t know, I didn’t want to be seen in a bathing suit, and deep down, I was afraid to try– and fail. So when I woke up to a rainstorm that morning, I was secretly relieved. Maybe the whole thing would be canceled, I thought. I don’t know who answered the phone at the World Barefoot Center, but they reassured me that they could ski in all kinds of weather and that it was supposed to clear up.

    Sure enough, the weather cleared up and I found myself in the boat with two-time World Barefoot Champion Keith St. Onge,  the world’s oldest female barefoot competitor Judy Myers and several others.  As I watched skier after skier do trick after trick on the water, I wanted to crawl out of the boat and head back home.  The flip-flop of nerves came up over and over again that afternoon at every step of the process.  I alternated between “I can do this!” and “I can’t do this!” Half of me was excited; the other half of me was wondering what the heck I was doing down in Florida with a bunch of people with talent way over my head.

    Had I given into the nerves, I would have missed out on the most incredible life transformation that unfolded.  In a  year and half, I went from not being able to do a deep water start– to competing in four tournaments, complete with sponsors.

    How many of us have missed opportunities in life because we give in to doubts, nerves or fear?

    Last week, Judy said to me, “You have to pay your dues.” This remark came after I experienced some frustration at the lack of progress on the water after trying the same simple trick over and over (left one foot)– ending in crash after crash. If you want to accomplish something in life, you have to put in the time, effort, practice, work, sweat and toil, — and sometimes the only progress comes after years of experience– and putting in your dues over and over, until you reach that place of success. The key is to not give up in the process.

    Last summer, I spent the entire summer trying to conquer a deep water start. I achieved one successful start in June and I triumphantly texted Judy about my accomplishment. “Backwards, here we come!” Judy texted back. (Backwards? Are you crazy?)

    I thought I’d breeze through the rest of the summer. Instead, I was met with one failed start after another, the entire summer long. I became pretty skilled at riding on my butt, though.

    Dave, my oldest son, pulled me through start after start, over and over. He consoled me when I dissolved in tears one night. “I can’t do this,” I told him. But he reassured me that tomorrow was another day and we’d try again. And sure enough, I accomplished it. But then I went right back to square one and rode my butt for weeks after that. One step forward, twenty steps back.

    Yup, barefooting is a lot like life.

    I sent my brother a picture of my first back toe hold. My brother is a former barefooter– he’s off the water now due to a cracked vertebrae (like me, he also lost some hearing in a footin fall). “Wow!” he wrote. “I could never do that!”

    Here’s the thing: I said the exact same thing when I watched other people doing toe holds on the water.  I remember watching Judy do a toe hold and thinking, Gosh that looks so hard. I could never do that!

    And how much do we hold ourselves back in life by thinking in limits?

    How many of us have looked at someone who is successful and wished for that same success… without understanding the journey that came before success? Before I could get that snapshot of a back toe hold, Keith stripped me back to basics. Backward on one foot. Backward with my foot in the air. Backward with my foot touching the rope. Backward with the foot on the rope and one hand in the air. And then I had to work on the dreaded left foot backwards. The result? Crash after crash into the water.  Then little by little, I worked my way toward  success.

    Crashes are not failures… and stumbles in life are not failures… you learn from them. You learn what causes them– then you take a different course of action. And like Judy says, you pay your dues. You put the effort and time in to gain experience and little by little, you accomplish your goals and achieve success.

    And speaking of crashes: A Whack on the Head.