Author/Blogger/Online Marketing Consultant, chronicling love, family, health, travel and all of the ups and downs that life hands us.
Author: @JeriMooreBrunton
I have had a wonderfully colorful life, rich with varied experiences. My ability as a singer and career as an administrative assistant/marketing communications manager; have presented me with a wide range of opportunities. I have been fortunate to work with and learn from some accomplished and intelligent business owners, executives and artists. I have explored the world, markets and non-profits I would have never dreamed of exploring.
I started out performing in community theater then professionally in night clubs and working as a studio vocalist at the age of 12 in Naples Florida, my home town. My vocal studies began at the age of 8 with my mother who gave me my first vocal lessons. I have had the opportunity to learn with some talented vocal coaches since those lessons with my mother. With them I developed the ability to sing Classical, Jazz and Pop; which allowed me to make a living in the music industry for over 30 years, in America, Europe and NZ. I became proficient in handling the business end of performing and teaching and developed administrative skills that would be used more prominently later on in my life, which I cover further down in this piece. I managed all my own performance bookings and began promoting myself as an up and coming singer, beating the pavement in Nashville TN and learned how to sell my talents in a place where everyone and their mother can sing. Performing in front of large audiences has forced me to be more than skilled at holding my own.
I have also been a studio singer and voice over artist, taught choir and private lessons and was the president of a local non-profit music school in NZ for 3 years.
Once my husband and I began a family, my career focus shifted more to assisting others in their businesses, along with marketing and often selling their products. I took on the roles of Sales, Marketing Communications and Administrative Assistant full time. Environments where I have worked in these capacities have varied. The most joy I find in my career is having the ability to tap into my creative side where I have been encouraged to indulge in my love for creative and copy writing, both personally and for professionally. I worked in our own residential and commercial playground company and for a Website development/social media management company and cherished watching the birth of our new products become known to the public and seeing our client base grow. I have developed the skill for marketing and promoting products and services through the written word, but I am also a strong and persuasive sales person face to face.
We moved from NZ where we had been for 12 yrs, back to Naples Florida in 2015. I took the position as the Administrative Assistant to the Pastor, at the church I grew up in. In my position there I used every skilled I had acquired over my lifetime, from administrative to performing as a vocalist/worship leader. I am a passionate employee and business woman and find it easy to fully immerse myself in my work while still finding joy in the day to day, what I do and the people in my life.
My passions are still singing, promoting, creative writing, encouraging others to pursue their dreams while achieve their goals and being outdoors. I love my hometown of Naples and take advantage of all the beauty and outdoor opportunities it has to offer on a regular basis. Being an active person I work best when on the move and busy, socializing and intellectually stimulated. I also thrive in a situation where I have the opportunity to continue learning new skills. I work on being the best version of myself and strive to give it my best shot every day.
The wind caresses my shoulder with an effervescent chill.
The birds swirl around the electrical wires under the spotlight orange sunlight slicing through the trees.
The dog chips away on a bone at my feet.
Cars glide down the hill invisibly and the whir of the wheels hums beneath the trills of the birds and one single beak blast of a golden tone.
Cicadas strum a tender beat and my eyes are pulled from my phone screen to a flickering candle floating in a gray corner next to the TV blaring with light and images.
It’s 8:20 pm and the temperature is 18 Celsius. I lay my head back on the couch cushion and close my eyes.
My body shivers under the fluttering breeze and a chill kisses my cheek.
We’ve had a big year. Seen the stunning election of a convicted, twice impeached felon in the US and now understand that integrity and truth no longer matter to many humans on planet earth. Watched a couple of our girls move from home again, had more sick days than I care to count, done some really awesome hikes, gotten used to walking 6 kilometres home from work daily (to get fit), and learned so much about digital marketing and what the wave of AI is ushering in for SEO professionals like myself. It’s an exciting and scary time to be alive.
It feels like we are teetering on edge of something big. Maybe good, maybe bad, I don’t know. If 20 yr old Jeri told me what living in today’s world would look like, what it felt like to age and parent adult children, or that I would be living in NZ for a second time, working as an SEO Specialist I would’ve had a variety of responses. There would’ve been a “No way!” to the technology, and loss of integrity in the world, “ooooo gross” on the aging thing, “whatever works” to the parenting adult children situation, and “what is that?” to being an SEO specialist? We evolve moving on in life, changing rapidly while the earth yawns and stretches beneath us.
As I sit here in the present embracing the now I find it neither gross, unbelievable, nor hard to comprehend. In fact, I am amazed, thankful, frightened and mindful. Every day is a new opportunity to grow, spread love, watch and reflect. I choose carefully what I allow into my life and resist things that will cause me anxiety or pain while focusing on relationships and improvement.
We just had 51 people for Thanksgiving dinner and you would think that’s stressful. But in that single day of sharing a meal and everyone coming together to bring their dishes, meet new people and embrace old friends and family all the admin that rattles around in our minds took a backseat to good food, laughter, alcohol induced nonsense, and giggles, a prayer of thanks and love, memories of those that couldn’t be with us and the excitement of just being together in peace, good health and happiness. It was a blissful day!
As my American family and friends back home, get ready to celebrate their Thanksgiving. I wish them all the same. Time passes faster as we get older, time together is fleeting and long distance communication is never enough (no matter how many social media platforms you’re on). So, I want to tell you that I miss and love you all and hope to hear your voice, see your face, or embrace you soon.
The last time I wrote on July 10, 2023, I was “waiting until the day…” for Paul, our stuff, and the dogs to arrive in NZ. They did and it has been bliss and stress. I realised that over the 5 months I was a non-dog mom, I had become very comfortable with not having the added stimulation and responsibility of having pets. It was nice, I could be selfish and think of myself and my schedule not theirs and there was no dog hair to clean up or additional pet cost. It’s taking a minute for me to get back into the swing of being a pet Grammy (Molly, Sabrina, and Zoe are the dog’s moms now). I love snuggling them and feel for them but I am ready to be all care and no responsibility.
2 Dogs at home
Paul arrived and it too has been a mixed bag of emotions. I am elated that he is by my side and love him with all of my heart but again the added stimulation of sharing my space has been difficult.
As I get older it seems like conversations, and the movement of the dogs and everyone in the house causes confusion that is sometimes hard for me to cope with. To my mind, a group of people talking is loud, and fast and feels almost aggressive when there are too many all at once. There is a lot of this when we are all home. We are a tight-knit family and love being together but looking back over our life I have noticed that I spent a lot of time slipping away to my quiet safe space, our room. I sit there and read, play solitaire, sudoku, and crossword, blog, and sometimes nap.
This is my way of coping with the overstimulation. I’ve done it my whole life and had not noticed it was a pattern until now. This is a healthy habit for me. I know when things become overwhelming I have a quiet space to go to where I can collect my thoughts and recharge. I’m taking care of me first and then everyone else and that’s ok.
Paul waiting for me and helping me down heaps of steps as we hike
Since Paul arrived there have been some beautiful memories made too. It has been wonderful laughing with him, seeing his sweet face daily, holding his strong hands, hiking with him, having a buddy to snuggle with while watching movies, and someone to wipe my tears when I cry. He is my best friend always and forever and I am thankful to have him by my side. I am no longer “waiting until the day…” it has arrived and not every day is perfect for anyone but my days are sweeter now that Paul is near, our immediate family is together, we live on the same continent as our children and we have our health, home and most importantly safety and love. Happy 2024 ♥️.
Paul left me in NZ on January 11th and then I went back to the US for 21 days in April and spent our last moments with him in our Naples home that we have put up for sale. I packed and cleaned every day and saw him every evening after he finished work. I returned to NZ leaving my husband behind once again. After several months apart It feels like the days are getting longer and I am wondering how long we will be waiting until he finally joins us here.
We decided to pack up our lives again and make the crazy international move between the US and NZ one final time, but this stint feels especially long. Maybe it’s because while we were alone and the girls were 8,000 miles away we realized that we were best friends, not just husband and wife, and in the end, all we have is each other. Or maybe it’s because we enjoyed the time we had cut out together, laughing, going on little adventures, and filling the space where the girls once were with uninterrupted conversations we had not had since they were born. And because of that window of time alone, our love grew stronger than ever.
We made the tough decision together to return to NZ earlier than planned. We said we would always end up back here someday and someday is now. I have landed in a career I love here and he is leaving one he loved in Naples. I am here enjoying our daughters while he closes shop, cleans, and shows our house repeatedly and he is alone. I can’t begin to imagine how he feels right now. I am sure the days feel twice as long for him and his canine sidekicks.
Our life is a constant adventure and though there are things in the past I would have done differently I don’t regret this move and hope Paul is confident that our future here back in NZ is filled with promise, love, happiness, and peace. I can’t wait until we are all under the same roof continuing to make lasting memories as we watch our girls grow, thrive and play a part in our story as a complete family again.
I moved a lot growing up and they say that women seek out a man to marry that will give them what they longed for as a child and though “All I want is a real home with flowers on the windowsill” (Carol King reference), we have moved repeatedly in our marriage. I think about my sister who has lived in one of her homes for almost 20 years or more and I can’t begin to fathom what putting down roots like that must feel like.
There was a moment in our life right after Paul and I married, that helps me find peace in our hectic gypsy lifestyle and it’s this. Now I’m not always a hippy-dippy believer in fortune tellers and one evening my friends encouraged me to go into one while we were on a night out on Broadway in Nashville. I pulled my chair up to her table and gave nothing away about myself. She laid out cards and read the fine lines in my palm then looked me in the eyes and said, “You will never find the one home you have always been seeking. You will instead travel across the water repeatedly, live near the sea and hills and your home will be the love of those that are important to you.” Her words at that moment struck me deeply and at the time disappointed me, but she spoke the truth. Now 25 years after I visited with that random stranger I understand fully what she meant and she saw what I could never have imagined laid out for my future.
Now I don’t have that one home I’ve had many. I haven’t put down solid roots in one place, yet I have had and have plants and flowers in every home I’ve lived in no matter the length of time I’ve resided there. We grow together through the challenges we face as a result of the decisions we make and always come out wiser. We have experienced the world in ways those around us could not begin to and find beauty in all of it.
Most importantly I have a loving husband who is brave and selfless and will take as many risks for love and to be with family as I will. We have our lovely, brilliant girls who fill our hearts and bring us joy, we have family and friends on both sides of the earth that we are thankful for, and after all we have been through; adventures and situations that are not for the faint of heart, we love, adore and still have each other. I am waiting until the day I can hug my husband again and never let him go.
I used to believe in the bricks and mortar church, it’s leader and the community. I basked in the Sunday smiles and charity work being done and I felt I was where I was meant to be. I was working towards and living my divine purpose as I had learned to. I followed my heart and Gods discerning confirmations through the words of those around me and after a great deal of prayer to be surrounded daily by people of faith, I was granted a position as the Administrator to the Pastor and of the church that I grew up in. A place where my mother and brothers ashes lay.
I led with a compassionate heart and worked tirelessly. I observed for three and a half years the inner workings of that church and found that I didn’t like seeing the man behind the curtain. I watched deceit, pain, loss, prideful leadership, a pastor scratching to get out of a hole they had dug for themselves, and faithful community servants and staff run off as if their lives, contributions to the congregation and their children, and gifts meant nothing. The light that surrounded me was being snuffed out and as my heart broke, with great pain, I resigned.
I pray in earnest daily and nightly. I talk to God as if he is a friend by my side throughout the hours that pass. I feel a warm spirit around me that has been with me since my first memory. I know my higher power does not hold my love and faith to whether I attend a building full of people. I love everyone, inside the building and out. I try to see others point of view and sometimes I do and I don’t.
My practice of religion is in the words of hope that reside with me and my maker and I pray that my light shines on all those who come into my life. My religion is love, the one true meaning of being. Basking in all there is to love in the world doesn’t mean you are exempt from pain. I have had my fair share. It simply means your heart is soft and you can be open to all the good this world has to offer.
I know that life throws all of us curveballs but I have learned to bounce back and reinvent myself with every challenge thrown at me.
I have had my share of being knocked down but can pick myself up, dust myself off, and keep on trying. I watched my mom do it my whole life. I also observed my middle sister working hard and never taking no for an answer. These two women have always inspired me. I have made loving friendships with those whose attitudes are positive, supportive, and encouraging, and this too has given me the strength I need to carry on when I felt I couldn’t. I have a loving husband who has always told me I am big and ugly enough to take care of myself and our 3 daughters drive me to strive for perfection just so I can be an example of what an empowered woman should and can be.
I learned discipline through years of vocal training and performed even when I could barely talk because my voice was so tired from singing 6 nights a week, for years. I worked in several businesses and nonprofits until I found my passion. And then sent myself to Uni to do most of my bachelor’s (which I was so close to finishing but didn’t…yet) and also gained my university certificate in digital marketing. I have been a strong family leader, mother, and wife and have never given up. I have a thirst for knowledge and continue to grow in understanding that even Einstein believed “A true genius admits that he/she knows nothing”. I’m no genius but knowledge is power and growth so I continue to learn and adapt.
I am good at working hard and smart. Success can not be had without both elements. I am always looking towards the future, not because I’m not satisfied with the present, but because I know there is always something great just around the corner if I have hope and drive. I am where I am at this moment because I am strong, brave and have faith in my ability, those who love me, and the one who created me.
I am a fighter and I’m not just good at it, I’m a George Forman, knock you out in the first round kind of girl. And if I don’t get you on the first round well there are 11 more to go.
Lately, I have been reunited with our 3 daughters and am now living in the same home with them. I don’t live here as their mom, as they are all over 18 and have been living successfully, independently, and thriving without their parents, 8000 miles away for months and years. We live in the same house but I am here as their “flatmate” not their mom. I don’t want to steal their thunder or hinder their personal growth.
We go out regularly and being in their presence is like swimming in the fountain of youth. I listen to them talk about where they are in life and find that I want to share that I’ve been there too to be relatable and share wisdom. They have sarcastic senses of humor and I want to join in but it just hits differently, and sometimes the intentions of my jokes or words are misconstrued.
I’m sensitive so if things aren’t flowing easily when in their presence I become awkward and they jokingly refer to mom as a “pick me girl”. With their dad they have become accustomed to humorously insulting each other, a game I have never played very well. I am indeed a “words of affirmation” gal and when words are less than uplifting and kind I get confused. I giggle for a bit and then find it hard to decipher whether what is being said is in jest or their true feelings. One out of four times things will go sour and I end up clamming up when all I wanted to do was hang out with my Uber cool girls and be their friend. I have to remind myself that I am more than a friend, I made them! There’s a fine line you dance when you want to befriend your children and the family dynamic is blurred.
Our girls are all 3 strong, command attention with their presence, and are creative and smart. When we go places together I pridefully walk a bit taller and a few steps behind, allowing them to joke and speak freely without feeling I am hovering. I am happy just to watch them and most of the time am amazed that I took part in their creation. Yes, I’m a proud mamma.
We have fun together most of the time and I am so thankful to be with them again. I missed them so much when we were apart. They are 18 – 24 and I’m almost 56. My age says I’m old but I feel far from it. I work and live with young people, most of my closest friends are at least 15 hrs younger than me, yet we relate somehow. I’m quirky, I know, and some of the things I say and do are unpredictable at times. I’m not your average bear. I am energetic, a little crazy, love intellectual stimulation, and still crave the magic of newness in my life. My mom was the same, the life of the party, that woman dancing on the dance floor when no one else would, laughing her loud musical laugh and loving with all her heart, so I come by my personality honestly. I had an amazingly close relationship with my mother and I feel I am blessed in the same way with my girls.
It’s tricky to not cross the line of being friends vs family with our girls, and I learn as they find themselves in their discovery years I am still finding myself too. Life is never dull, we laugh, have DMCs, and sometimes fight, it’s all part of our close dynamic. Regardless of distance, lifes joys and challenges, or where we are emotionally, we are so close and always have each other’s backs. In our relationships, we complement each other with our strengths and call out our weaknesses no matter how ugly they can get. We never lose sight of how much we love one another and each day is a growth opportunity or chance to make another lasting memory.
Yeah I want to be relevant to our girls always but I am a mom first and foremost and I was cool, fashionable, fun, and vibrant before our three lovelies ever drew a breath. I want to share that with them and want them to be as proud of me as I am of them. Ok, that does sound a bit “pick me” but who cares. Everyone is a “pick me” to some degree, aren’t they?
What does “having it all” mean to you? Is it attainable?
Having it all is whatever gives me peace. It doesn’t mean that I have to be the girl who dies with the most toys, because let’s face it you can’t take it with you. The peace of knowing you gave love and had love in your life. Now that’s worth catching and never letting go. You will leave this world with your imprint on it in the hearts and minds of those you left behind. To me that is worth living for and what if understand to be, “having it all.”
It’s been a hot minute since I have blogged. A lot has happened since I wrote about counting down for our holiday trip to see our girls and family in NZ. We got to NZ and basked in the familiarity of the laid back life style, old friends and the warmth of being together (all 5 of us) as a family. We were wooed by the charm that we had almost forgotten while being back in the states and realised that we were not where we wanted to be.
After our youngest daughter joined her sisters in NZ I felt lost and empty. Sure, our life in Naples was full. Paul had a wonderful job and was blessed with amazing opportunities to grow as a business leader, I had started a business that was beginning to take off and we were with friends that are chosen family and my loving sisters, but we missed the joy we get from being a part of our girls lives. All 3 of them were now 8,000 miles away. In the evenings and on weekends Paul and I would binge watch shows and movies and always ask each other what we were doing? We kept saying, “why aren’t we with our children?”
We both had a hole that could not be filled by work, diving into charity causes by volunteering, treating our dogs like people, making memories with old and new friends and being with family in Naples. When we arrive in NZ this past Christmas we had no idea it would change our lives, again!
The past months have been a whirlwind of closing down businesses, selling cars, packing, readying our home for showings, getting new jobs and me settling into the flat with our girls and nephew in Devonport. I travelled 8,000 miles home for a 23 day feverish clean out of stuff so that Paul wouldn’t once again be left tying up loose ends alone; once his time to join us arrived. I managed to do our taxes and said goodbye (see you later or see you never) to every single person I love in the states. Not one time during this mad dash have I questioned or doubted our decision to leave the US behind with its polarisation of politics, mass shootings, the sadly diminishing rights women and girls have regarding their body’s, burn out inducing work ethics or broken medical system.
I landed my dream job here in NZ at an amazing marketing firm that is a Google Premier Partner as a digital marketing consultant and SEO specialist and have the 10 month of online schooling I did through the University of Miami and my determination to thank for setting me on this new path (a story in itself). After all of these sudden changes I am close enough to see my girls smiling faces and have the ability to hug them. To me that is worth crossing a million miles of ocean for. Family, love, making memories, finding our happy place and realising peace. That is what we are moving toward, what we are here for and I adore and cherishing every moment of it. Paul has yet to join us, but when he does we will be complete . And after a night on the couch of watching Netflix we will no longer sit, lost in the silence of our home, we will be basking in the love that surrounds us.
It’s all go go go at the moment. Christmas gatherings, packing, planning, and mind racing! At the same time, I am stuck in bed as the days get closer to leaving. It’s like so much is going on in my brain that I can’t pull myself up for the weight. Even though it’s good stuff, my body keeps saying, “no, it’s way too much to sort out.” When I am this way, I feel like a deer in headlights. I have to have a specific starting point to make me jump up and activate, but with the mass of running thoughts, I can’t find direction sometimes, leaving me frozen. It sounds crazy and is a part of my makeup, I guess.
I am excited about our journey and sad to leave the dogs with my sister. I know they will miss their routine and our nighttime snuggles. My uneasiness, however, does not outweigh the joy of knowing we will be snuggling our babies soon and being with our whole Brunton family, ALL TOGETHER!!
There are three nights of sleep to go, and if I can get through these fits and stops, it will be heaven.
Ten days and counting. Auckland bound; we are going from Florida winter (summer breezes) to Auckland summer (winter chilled rain). Packing our bags, house sitters, and dog sitters, trying to find luggage, passports, visas, comfort food from the US for the girls, and Christmas gifts. I say our presence is their presents. I mean, come on.
In every phone conversation, I have to drop, “xx days until snuggles and hugs!” They smile, bearing teeth and widening their eyes as big as they will go. Is it overwhelming joy or happy dread shining from their faces? I can faintly see little word bubbles that read, “that’s terrifying!” Hanging over their heads. Oh, I can’t wait for the moment we see them upon arrival, hear their exciting stories on the ride to their house, smell the NZ air and pull into Devonport. All 5 of us will be together for the holidays for the first time since 2013. WOW!
We will make new memories and reminisce about old ones as a family unit. Moments like this happen less and less for some parents as their children leave the nest and move on. At first, it was bone-crushingly heartbreaking, and I didn’t think I would survive it. Nothing hurt worse than all 3 of our girls leaving the nest. 4.5 months have passed, though, and Paul and I have settled into our routine of weekend coffee in bed, conversations we can finish with no interruptions, long walks with the dogs, walking out of the house dressed the same because we are so in sync and doting on each other while relaxing in the evenings.
We are best friends again. We have substance and peace, and we realize we like it. The dogs get more love than any furry friends on the planet and are now the warm bodies bounding into our beds in the morning to wake us up. There is time to volunteer and help others, hone our skills and pursue our passions. The sun is shining, so we make hay and push ourselves to see what we can accomplish after all we’ve seen and the places we’ve been. We have our New Zealand and US life, family, and friends, and the five of us, Paul, me, and our three girls together, will always be home. Ten sleeps and counting.
The house is still and quiet. The space where the trampoline sat is bare. There is one less car on the white shell driveway. Paul hears every word I say without interruption for the first time in 23 years. The dogs are calm and waiting for someone that won’t come. The house is constantly clean, and in the bedroom, the beds are made and empty. We can make all the noise we want, yet there are long moments of silence. The track team runs by the house, and I say hello, yet there is no response; I am a stranger now. My brush always sits on my bathroom sink in the morning, and I wish it were harder to find. The clean bath towels remain folded in the cabinet, and the laundry basket is bare. The kitchen sink never fills with dirty dishes, and there is hardly a load of laundry to fold for over a week. Chocolate-covered almonds, chips, and cookies get passed up at the grocery store because there’s no one to eat them.
We sit at the dinner table, hold hands and say grace, then eat the meals I prepare and talk about our day; then we wonder what’s happening in our girl’s day on the other side of the earth. No one objects to what I have prepared to eat, and nothing is wasted. I go to work, take my classes, do school work and work some more, uninterrupted. We spend spare time walking the dogs and give them love and extra snuggles. My morning and bedtime kisses have been reduced from 2 to 1. We can do whatever we want. Sleep naked as we did as newlyweds, eat or not eat, watch movies that would have been unsettling to others in the house. We seem to move slower, and the atmosphere is sometimes eerily calm. There are no empty water glasses to collect and place in the dishwasher and nothing on the floors of the girl’s rooms. All of the shoes are placed neatly in the closet where they belong. Paul and I are leaning into each other more than we ever have. We almost operate as one now. We plan to have fun, be social, travel, and find adventure. We are adjusting to the stillness. It will take time, and we will discover new joys to fill each minute that passes. A new chapter in our lives is opening, and we can write our story any way we choose. A new chapter in our girls’ lives is opening, and we will eagerly wait to hear how they spin their tale. We will hang on every word, photo, and text they share with us until we are together again.
When we are stressed out or life feels like it’s moving too fast, we lash out at the people closest to us. We get into heated discussions and argue about things that, at the moment, seem like they are a big deal. Still, most of the time, all we are doing is verbally puking, angst, and agitated emotion and don’t realize how deeply our words cut the people around us.
We’ve all done it! The kids may be whining when money is tight, and we are worried about work and how we’re going to pay the bills. Or maybe we are feeling down on ourselves, so we bury our hurt emotions until we explode. Perhaps you feel lonely and misunderstood and feel like the only way to be heard is to talk louder until you are screaming. We lose control and sometimes see red. We feel better, but the person we aim our emotional shrapnel at walks away feeling blindsided and deeply hurt. We have let it all out in a frantic rage and feel relief and don’t realize the trauma we’ve caused the people we love.
Life is a series of ups and downs, and it is crucial to take a good look at how we express ourselves to those there to support us. Repeated outbursts of extreme pent-up emotion tend to push those who are the most valuable in our lives away. This sometimes causes irreparable damage that drives a wedge between us and those we need the most. When we lose our shit, we apologize and move on until the next outburst. Freaking out isn’t a healthy way to live or love and weakens our support system. None of us are perfect, and we may have learned this behavior from a hot-tempered role model, or maybe you’re just wired that way; don’t give up hope is not lost. There is always room for improvement and finding inner peace to gain outward joy.
Talk things through and promise yourself that you won’t blow up while working through your issues. If you are hot-headed, it’s a good idea to keep a daily journal. Put your angry words on paper instead of throwing them out into the universe. Slow down, sit quietly, and ask yourself what you are so mad about, what’s hurting you, and what kind of change or support you need to correct your behavior?
Some people calm themselves through meditation, but when life is moving at a breakneck pace sitting cross-legged on the floor and breathing in and out feels like the last thing you want to do. Yet, meditation does help, even if it’s only for five minutes. Collect your thoughts and make a conscious choice to be better, to do better, to be kind, and offer peace.
When we lash out in a flash reaction, we aren’t just hurting those we love; we create layers of guilt that build up like layers on an onion. Once this happens, we start to feel and believe that we are bad people. Peeling back the onion so that you can heal and improve your behavior takes time, inward reflection, asking for forgiveness, and forgiving others and ourselves.
Avoid those outbursts and take a 10-minute walk or run, go for a drive and scream the words to a song that cleanses your soul, or scream into a pillow. Please don’t use the people around you as punching bags, it’s hurtful, and the effect is long-lasting. If you find it hard to break this negative emotional behavior, seek counseling. No one is truly alone, and everyone should know they can ask for help. The choice is yours; you can go through life treading on others’ feelings to make yourself feel better, or you can do some work and learn to direct your emotions in a constructive, loving way.
There are options, people who love you, and friends who care about your mental and emotional well-being. Don’t push away your support network. Work on the tough stuff in your life that is causing you distress. Don’t run from your feelings with distractions like food, overworking, obsessive exercise, impulse shopping, or gossiping. Running from your problems only makes them worse. Remember, you can run, but you can’t hide, and no matter where you go, there you are.
Look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself what is wrong before freaking out. Be brave and humble and work on yourself because when you are all alone, you have to like the person looking back at you. When you are alone, all you have left is you, and you better make sure you love yourself so others can love you in return.
I have been working so hard lately and loving it. I have taken on a great part-time job that has a fulfilling mission where I meet amazing people who want to make a change in our world. I’ve been studying 12 hrs a week online to complete my Digital Marketing certificate at a major university and after 15+ years of self-taught marketing, I opened my own digital marketing company. All of these things feel huge to me because in my mind, in my universe these are my greatest accomplishments and I am proud of them.
When someone asks my husband how I’m doing in a phone conversation, I will hear him say complimentary things about how hard i’m working but then he says, “she started this little business,” The words ring in my ears and sting a little bit. I am a woman so to hear a man say that something I have worked hard to launch is “little” is infuriating even coming from the man I love. When we spend years gaining our skills and spend hours upon hours studying after food shopping, doing the bills, taking care of a child, and getting dinner on the table. I don’t want my efforts to be reduced to something little. Yes, the size of my new company is indeed little but the effort taken to get me where I am to have the confidence to launch and market what I have to offer is huge.
I am competitive and I want to succeed. My goal has always been to create a legacy that will support our family in our retirement because, well I love working but I don’t want to work till I die (no one does). I may start out “little” but my efforts will be big. I will under promise and over deliver and do whatever it takes to help my clients realize their own success through marketing. I will keep working until the only thing others think of when describing my company is “big”. It will be a minute before I get there but I am putting the time in and have the skills and then some. So the moral of this story is if someone ever says what you are trying to achieve is “little” prove them wrong. Prove to them that you are in it for the long haul. Share your end goal with everyone and take them to the top of your mountain where they can sit and watch your plans unfold. Give them the best seat in the house so they can see your “little” idea grow into something beautiful and “big”!
I have been a marketer for 15 + years. I say 15 + because calculating an actual number to the date I started may require carbon dating! I was a performer in bands playing nightclubs, and marketing back then involved grabbing everyone’s address and phone number in a notebook between sets on my break. I would work with the crowd, build relationships and subscribe them to the band newsletter that we sent by snail mail (direct mail marketing) once a month. The newsletter was your favorite band member, behind-the-scenes photos, and dates for our next gigs.
I was constantly building on our “Following.” It was necessary to have a solid following because when you went to a new popular nightclub to get a gig, the management always wanted to know how much business you could bring them. I could confidently report that we had 300 people on our mailing list, which in those days for a “top 40 band” was very good.
I’m not sure if other bands focused on marketing or not, but we did, and it made a massive difference to our wallets. Having a solid following, we could make announcements about new venues we were playing and make those who came to see us feel like a band member (one of the cool people)! Our faithful following got involved with our music, lives, and story. They saw us as people living the dream and lived theirs vicariously through us. The interaction of our followers and seeing their faces in the crowd were the only metrics we had for measuring our marketing efforts.
As computers were introduced (yes, I lived in a time where there were no computers or cell phones and was a master of what I now call “Dinosaur Marketing.”) I began taking email addresses from our followers, and we saved money because I could now send less hard copy letters and send a digital letter to those who preferred email. The method was clunky; I would send an email to myself and BCC all of our followers and then monitor their responses through replies. There was no analytics on how my emails were being received, the open and bounce rate, or whether they had been shared or read more than one time. I sent my emails out into dead air, hoping to see people’s faces in the crowd, dancing and drinking to their heart’s content the following week.
Then Email Marketing platforms were introduced, and I was in heaven! Yaay, Mailchimp and Constant Contact! I could write newsletters and schedule them, which now saved me money and time! More people were converting to email over hard copy mail, so I had to send out fewer letters, and we began to save a few trees (you can’t forget the trees!).
Technology has evolved tremendously since those days. I still use Mailchimp and Constant Contact, though. Businesses and organizations may not know this, but email marketing is as alive today as ever! Hubspot says, “Email marketing remains one of the most important and effective ways for your business to connect with customers and build lasting relationships with them. (Source: https://www.hubspot.com/marketing-statistics)” I agree. They also say, “Roughly 80% of marketers have reported an increase in email engagement over the past 12 months. (HubSpot, 2020) (Source: https://www.hubspot.com/marketing-statistics).” And that number is continuously growing.
So here we are in 2022, and I am no longer a performer, but I am still a marketer. After all of these years, there is still tremendous value in telling your brand story, engaging your following, and taking them along for your journey. I use newsletters to directly connect with people interested in getting to know my services and provide an opportunity to develop a relationship. Its fun coming up with content to educate and celebrate with my following, and today there is analytics that helps me understand my followings engagement so that I can streamline and provide them quality content that will help them have the best user experience online, in their inbox and through my services and products in their business.
My blog tells my marketing story. Read along and see how marketing has evolved through the years while I have taught myself to navigate the ever-changing digital landscape.
As always, book a free consultation if you are a newly emerging SME (Small to Mid-Size Enterprises) Business or organization. MRKT Communications also specializes in Non-profits Clubs and Organizations.I look forward to hearing from you!
My sunrise photo, taken on one of my evening walks. The blessing of another day.
Eighteen months ago, I wouldn’t have dreamed I would be ticking along the way; I am now. I had experienced a trauma, the effects of COVID had hit me hard, and between the isolation of being in my home more than I wanted to be and our two oldest daughters being 8000 miles away, I had begun to shut down. My world was growing smaller; I had an empty hole inside that I couldn’t fill, and I felt lost.
Last night a neighbor we’ve just begun to befriend invited us to their home. They said their impression of me was energetic and vibrant. They told us they look across the street and see the perfect family, so happy and active with our youngest daughter. They said, “wow, you all really have it together and are like a powerhouse.” I said, “yes! Thank you. We are at a beautiful point in our lives, but don’t be mistaken; we have our struggles and lows too.” I explained how I had gone through a rough patch, as mentioned above, and they told me I was blessed. Yes, I am blessed in the good and the bad, along with being blessed though I had to fight to find my light again. And in that fight things finally started coming together.
I began to move and my world started to expand. One by one, things started happening again, and I started blooming. I began a volunteer role for a mental health coalition, went to NZ to be with all 3 of our girls for five months, started my education journey and am completing a certificate course at the University of Miami, opened my digital marketing company; MKRT Communications (and gained my first client two weeks later), was hired part-time as the administrator for the Leadership Collier Foundation; a fantastic organization within our local chamber of commerce and finally; have been active with old and new friends that make me laugh and feel valued.
For a while, my most significant companion and healer was my written word and the words of others. With the newfound activities that fill my days, I haven’t been blogging as much, and my memoir is on hold. I may have a lot on my plate, but somehow my schedule is perfectly balanced. I’m genuinely content, and my life is coming together.
For anyone who has struggled through a lonely, dark, and painful lull in their life, I have this to say. Give in to the stillness that life has imposed on you for a time if you can; healing rest is necessary before the fight begins. Then fight to climb out of the void. Shout for help until someone, anyone throws you a rope, and then take it! Say yes to everything once you reach the surface and keep moving. Trust the process and be faithful, share all of your gifts with others and be thankful for waking up to another day. Love everyone, forget about the polarization of today’s politics and drop your grudges, take long walks daily and smile at everyone who crosses your path.
These actions have gotten me moving forward again. Sometimes we stall out in life, and that’s ok; as long as you remember your dreams, find the determination to capture them, and help others do the same once you have hit your stride.
At 54, I never imagined I would have wondered where I fit in. That’s something high school girls do. I watch our 16 yr old daughter as she questions her friendships, and I listen to how she is annoyed with this person and that person because they want too much of her time. I tell her, “enjoy it while it lasts because there will come a time in your life when no one needs you.” it sounds sad, really, but it’s true. I’ve realized that I had a friend group once upon a time, but half of them have died or become recovering addicts, which has left me floating in an empty sea—floating alone without a group from my past to cling to. I spend many of my days alone and find myself in conversation with only my husband after a long hard day’s work and 16 yr old child. I have so much silence around me; I find old memories resurfacing and swirling in my mind. I thought I would have had it all figured out by now and that I would have had this life full of love, companionship, and peace, but really that’s not the case. I Shipt shop to fill my days, have created a business venture that will take time to launch, and have enrolled for a third time to university.
I think about the relationships I’ve had and how I have taken more than I deserve from some and given more than I should to others. I feel like I am a floater at this point. Never really climbing to anything or anyone in a solid secure way. I wonder if I’m the only one who feels this way at this stage of my life? I wonder if I will ever fit and make a difference to someone else. I am the friend who texts and checks in and rarely the one whose phone rings because someone was missing me. This is not self-pity, just a realization I have made. I have many silent days and nights. I am lonely and privileged enough to have time to myself, but it’s too much time.
I’m often thinking of Dr. Suesses, “oh, the places you’ll go,” and feel I am in the waiting place. I think of the days when I was a well-known singer bound for greatness and all of the expectations those who love me had for me. I am floating, digging deep to find meaning in what I do from day to day. 2 thirds of our children are gone, and the last is home, but now independent, finding her way. Good on her. I hope she finds it. I pray she has lasting friendships with people who reach out to her because they love her. I hope she never becomes a pet project of someone who befriends her because she is broken and they need someone to fix. I hope all of my girls find love and lasting fulfillment, and I hope they bring to the table whatever I didn’t that makes people stay.
I’ve opened my own digital marketing company and am spreading the word. I would love to help you or anyone you know with their online presence. Referrals are appreciated. I hope you’ll at least check out my new site and follow me on the social media tabs at the top of the home page. A free zoom consultation is available on the home page. Make an appointment with the click of a button. Happy new year. 🙋🏻♀️💻 https://mrktcommunications.com/
I stepped into the ski boots as the outfitter sized me up and made adjustments. Looking around the store, I saw women who looked my age and size and felt confident about trying to ski. Lessons were all booked up, but I knew Paul and Laurel would guide me. We all piled our skis into the rental car and headed to our accommodations with excitement.
In the morning, everyone was buzzing and ready to get their ski on. I was shaking and couldn’t stop talking, saying things like, “Boy, I’m so nervous,” “what’s the worst that could happen? If I can’t ski, we just take them back,” and so on. We dressed in stiff ski boots and layers of warm clothes and made our way out to the powder-covered green trail just behind our townhouse. As a stampede of skiers swished by, I stood looking down the hill and shook with fear. I moved my skis slowly across the slope while Laurel instructed me to pizza and dig in. She was firm but patient and gave me great advice, but my mind wouldn’t let me get past my fear. I needed a less steep hill to learn on, maybe a flat one. Ok, not a flat one but perhaps a tiny bump. I made it across the trail, and now she wanted me to go down. She and Paul called for me, nudging me gently to come on. I drifted back across the trail again towards them and fell into the drift on the side. Like a wounded soldier (who wasn’t wounded at all yet), I told them to please go on without me; I pleaded, “I’ll figure it out on my own.” Paul said, “no, we’re not doing that; besides, how are you going to get up?” He had a point. I popped my skis off and got up to try again. Laurel said, “we’re not leaving you on the slope alone; we don’t do that; now come on, you asked me to help you!” I stood there frozen in fear for a while and convinced her to go on with the family. Paul coaxed me to press on, and once again, I made it across the trail to the drift on the side and FELL OVER!!! I reached my hand up, thinking Paul could easily pull me out, and as he tugged at me, my right little finger and wrist popped. I yelled out in pain but had no idea I was injured. My fingers nestled in the glove were cold and remained that way through the day. I popped my skis off again to get up. Paul could see I was over it. Putting my skis on his shoulder, he skated off down the mountain, saying, “I’ll see you at the bottom.” I was perfectly fine with that, so I trudged down the slopes in my ski boots until I found a seat at the base, where I regrouped and tried to get my head around this skiing thing.
I watched the people on the bunny slopes (which were taken up by the ski school, so there was barely room to learn on your own) and committed to trying again. I walked my skis to the top of the slight slope and made perfect pizza and French fries. Digging my right foot inward, I turned left in a perfect circle, and then, digging my left foot in, I did a perfect circle right. I put my knees together and, in pizza position, came to a stop. I was getting there and had the skills I needed. I was still scared to go down bigger hills, though. There was either the bunny slope that I had mastered or the preview, and I would have to get on the lift to attempt that. I just wasn’t ready, and there was no in-between. I had been battling at it in my mind all day. I wanted to ski so bad and didn’t want to give up. As the sky grew dim and daylight disappeared, I took off my skis, grabbed a Bloody Mary at the bar, and decided to sleep on what I had accomplished and pray for a sign from God about whether I should press on with the skis or trade them in for snowshoes. As I slept, my hand began to throb. I rolled over, catching my small finger that had popped earlier in the day in the blankets. I woke with a shocking pain that shot to my wrist. Unsure whether my finger was sprained or broken, I dozed back off to sleep.
The morning sun shone through the window, illuminating the pines on the snowy hillside; they were dusted glittery white and stood majestically against the cold air. I made myself a cup of coffee, and as I went to grab the handle, that painful electric shock shot through the small finger on my right hand again. I now realized that I couldn’t bend it, and it hurt like hell. The painful finger was my sign from God. How could I hold a ski pole? Snowshoes it was. Paul and I went to the Ski Haus and made the switch, then headed back to the slopes at Christie. I had my shoes and poles still but didn’t need to grip them very tight as I was only walking. With my small right finger pointed straight, I squeezed my other four around the handle of the pole and made my way happily across the snow in my new cool shoes. I could go anywhere, and I did.
I ended up covering a total of 12 miles of the mountain range in those snowshoes. Word of advice, if you can’t ski and the rest of your group can, that’s ok. Don’t sit in the lodge drinking and sulking over your lack of ability! Slap on some snowshoes, take the gondola to the top of the mountain, and take in all the beauty that surrounds you. People stopped me as they skied by saying, “My wife and I have always wanted to snowshoe. How do you like it? How do you find the trails? How far have you gone? Where do I get them?” I suddenly felt like I belonged on that mountain as much as my skiing/snowboarding family members did. I was proud of myself for the steep inclines I had trekked, braving the solitude of the trails and just plain moving instead of caving in. If I had not gotten those shoes, I would have missed so much. I would have been bound to the lodges wishing I could climb into and shake up the snow globe world just beyond the window—what a fantastic adventure. And now I’m hooked on snowshoeing. If I ever get to go skiing again, I will rent skis once more and prebook a lesson. I will ski; I have not crossed that off my bucket list. I want to do it. I may not master it as Laurel or my hubby have, but I will at least gain enough skills to keep up with the pack on a slow run.
Our days were full-on in Steamboat. If we weren’t in the snow, we were walking in town. We rang in 2022 in front of the fire in our townhouse. We played card games, sticks, and seven hilarious rounds of Scategories. We grazed on laurel’s excellent seven-layer dip and drank fizzy water. As the burning wood popped in the fireplace, fireworks exploded with a colorful boom over the mountain visible just outside our window. This trip was perfect. We laughed and played, growing closer by the minute. We were the Bruntons and Satterfield’s, and as two families traveling together, we gelled so well we effortlessly became one. Our time together made for the best New Year I think I have ever had.
We had learned some things about dining in Steamboat Springs. When approaching a restaurant, always ask these three things: 1) Are you fully staffed? 2) Are you serving a full or limited menu? 3) Will WE be cooking our food? Here was our experience with dining out. Restaurant #1 didn’t get a drink of water for at least 15 minutes after being seated. Allan had a feeling we were doomed and said, “man, if I haven’t been approached with at least water in the first 5 minutes, I consider leaving.” We talked about it and considered it but, for some reason, decided to stay. We waited for an hour and a half for our food, and though Allan had the best General Tso chicken of his life, the rest of our meals sucked. We saw people come in the door waiting to be seated and gave them a wave of warning to leave and save themselves from the doom of limited staff and lousy cooking skills. Restaurant #2 We ordered Thai and arrived to pick it up an hour later. I sat inside in a line of 20 people or so long and watched two women work the entire restaurant while three chefs slaved away SLOWLY in the kitchen. Laurel joined me off and on inside as I sat there. More and more people packed the front foyer of the establishment looking for their orders placed and paid for online. We arrived there around 6:45 on our way home from food shopping. Time ticked on, and Laure took the food home for the guys to put away, and upon her return, I was still waiting. The Thai place closed at 9 pm, and being the second to last people sitting there at 9:05 pm, our brown paper bag of food was finally passed to us. I’m not sure about everyone else in our group, but I had waited too long to eat; I was no longer hungry. I drank a few sips and took a couple of bites of my Tom Kha soup, and headed to bed. Restaurant #3 we had a 7:45 pm reservation for this place. It was a western steakhouse. We were hungry and looking forward to a dining experience with superb service. Imagine our surprise when our slow talkin rough and tumble server (who appeared to work in a hardware store by day and waited tables by night) explained that we would be choosing our food from the VISUAL MENU out of the meat case. Ok, first off, aren’t all menus visual? Don’t you have to see the menu to read it? No, he wanted us to eye up our cut of meat, beef, fish, pork, etc., and it would be put on our plate and handed to us at the meat case by a man who has worked it for 26 years. We were all surprised that after 26 years, our butcher seemed to have difficulty understanding how to input our purchase/order on the POS system in front of him. He squinted and asked us repeatedly what we had asked for, making sure to get it right. We grabbed our meat and headed to the indoor barbecue grill. We followed directions on how long to cook our meat off a poster pinned to the wall. We chose seasonings and grabbed giant tongs to cook. THERE WAS NO OPTION FOR A CHEF TO COOK IT FOR US! What? Our group experienced various emotions, shock, anger, confusion, hunger, and delirious hysteria. We gave into this weird and unexpected experience and had fun with it. You couldn’t complain if you didn’t like the food because, well, you cooked it. The restaurant was packed. And we were entertained by those around us as we watched their faces while entering into the ruggedness of this entirely male-staffed western dining experience. We all went home full and confused but happy. Restaurant #4 Allan and I popped onto a patio by the slopes for a quick snack. As we were seated, the server said that only half the menu was available because they were understaffed. We are living in crazy times. Everyone was struggling at the height of ski season with skeleton crews and limited menus. Was this COVID induced? I saw an affirmation posted on Facebook that said, “the world is understaffed at the moment, so be kind to the ones who showed up.” It summed up perfectly what we experienced. We were in a luxury world with minimal instant gratification. Everyone we encountered fell into the pace of things as we did because if you didn’t want to wait, you should stay home and cook for yourself. Or wait, no, we WENT OUT and COOKED FOR OURSELVES. I don’t know, times are confusing, and we keep trying to
find normal, but it seems these minor changes to our expectations are now standard. I didn’t mind it, and it gave us a lot to talk about on our trip.
So despite my lack of skiing skills, the sprained little finger, the below zero temperatures, and near failed meals, we loved it. Because for me, it wasn’t about being the best on the slopes or having a 5-star dining experience; it was about our people. We made unforgettable memories together as friends/family. We watched our kids bond and bloom on the slopes and over a deck of cards. And we thanked God every chance we got for the many blessings he gives us every minute of every day. And that my friends was Steamboat.
I’ve never been to Colorado, but after the flight we’re boarding, I’ll be able to check that off my list. When I was in high school, I watched all of the affluent families take off to ski in the winter and wondered if I would ever be one of those people. We’re not rich, but today we are headed for the slopes. I have only attempted to ski once. I was in my 20’s fit and slim. And after 3 hours of a ski lesson on a bunny hill at Innsbruck, Austria (which I swear was not a real bunny hill, it was steep!), my friend’s instructor dad suggested I rent a sled. I was an epic failure on skis. However, I am keen to try again. Not quite as fit but maybe a bit crazier. I’m praying my sweet friend Laurel who has volunteered to teach me, will have the patients of a saint. I want to do this. I tried getting back on my rollerblades a few blogs back, and if you remember, I ended up giving them away. I hope since my feet will be attached to the ground on skis, I’ll have better luck this time. Pray for me.
Now that our romantic weekend in Manhattan is over, everything is still and quiet. Zoe has returned to school, Paul is hard at work, and I am working hard to get my feet on the ground with my new digital marketing business @MRKTcommunications. What I really need is work! So if anyone needs someone to manage the online presence of your business or organization, I’m your gal! (small shameless plug for the new brand).
I have been sitting here looking at the photos from our whirlwind weekend in the big apple and am so thankful to have had that ALONE time with my husband. It’s so important, especially when the other distractions of life sweep us in different directions. I’m savoring the crazy late-night drinks with Karaoke, walks through Chelsea dreaming of living in one of those stunning row houses, fantastic pasta at Zia Maria’s, people watching in central park and the beer garden, standing atop the One World Observatory, watching police dogs pose for Christmas photos in the Oculus, cruising on the ferry to see lady liberty and Ellis island and snuggling in bed watching the 100-foot wave and A Boy Called Christmas. And we can’t forget our last morning where we trained down to the Brooklyn Bridge and took a sunrise stroll over to Dumbo where we had the most fantastic coffee and breakfast at Butler, then zoomed up to grand central station for a photo op and then hoofed it to see the tree at Rockefeller Center.
Yes, we had one of the most magical times. The best part of the trip was watching the amazement on Paul’s face every time we turned a corner. This man was a trooper. I had him walking 10-14 miles a day for four days. When we left.our house I told him we were driving through Florida to NC to hike and camp. I wish you could have seen the look of confusion on his face when I pulled into the Fort Myers airport long-term parking lot. It was great! He was so relieved we weren’t going hiking because he’s not a fan. We may not have hiked the wilderness but we did urban hike. He says urban hiking is excellent because you have distractions to keep your mind occupied. I agree, but nothing beats the lush green and earthy smell of the trails.
So I’m home, looking at the floor because it needs sweeping again, getting ready to make my bed and get my 10,000 steps in; then I plan to practice some singing and do some more writing. Everything is still, but I can’t stop moving; my mind doesn’t let me for too long. Oh, and hey, I’ve lost 12 lbs in 6 weeks with Noom! So that movement is getting me positive results. I’m loving life.
It’s almost 4 am and Paul, and I have been out bar hopping in the village. We walked for miles only to find that every jazz bar we hoped to pop into was closed. We ended up at a fantastic karaoke bar where everyone was kind full of life and song. In each place we have visited in Manhattan, a facemask, proof of complete vaccination, and ID have been required. They are cautious here, and most of the people on the streets wear masks. I had to ask Paul to put his on became he is accustomed to the non-mask-wearing ways of the south.
We met a group of fun ladies from texas, and I had the opportunity to sing with an amazing man from here in the city. I have had so much fun. Despite dreading laying down to bed because of the spins I’m sure I will experience (too many gin and tonics), I can chalk tonight up to a beautiful memory.
I love Manhattan. The people are welcoming and kind, and there is a buzz of life around every corner. I have left Paul in bed sleeping and taken a 3:45 am walk. The city is still, and the only movement is the trash collectors. The front desk of the Sonder is quiet, and most people are sleeping in the city that never sleeps.
I am looking forward to another exciting day with Paul in the big apple and am thankful for the time we have here.
I’m off again, this time with my husband, Paul. Zoe and I returned from NZ just eight days ago, and I’m sitting high above the clouds once more, headed towards a weekend of excitement and romance. Paul and I had been apart for 5 MONTHS!! We need time to reconnect and get in sync. I told him we were taking a driving trip through Florida and stopping way up in NC to go hiking. I thought telling him we had a 14 hr drive ahead of us would cause dread and throw him off my actual plan. We left the house at 4:45 am and headed north on 75. Zoe called us to tell us there was a heavy fog advisory. We drove through the thick haze and listened to music singing along to Ed Sheeran and Paul Simon. Paul relaxed in the passenger seat next to me and wrapped up some last-minute business calls; despite the early hour of the day, his guys were awake and on their way to work.
I had packed all of Paul’s bags, so he was not fully aware of what to expect or where we were headed. He did, however, know he had to throw on his jeans and wear comfy shoes for heaps of hiking. He knew we had headed someplace cold. The thick socks and winter coat that I toted along with us were a dead giveaway. Zoe called us on Facetime on my phone, and Sabrina, Molly, and Annabelle called us on Pauls. It was 11:30 pm in NZ, but the girls were winding down from a movie night and drinks with friends, so they were still awake and eager to get in on the excitement of my surprise.
We drove through the heavy fog, and when I saw the airport exit sign, I said I had to go to the bathroom. I asked Paul if there was some place to stop before you got to the airport and then missed it. Then I told him I had to turn around and pull into long-term parking. At this point, he was on to me and said, “ well, you will probably have to go to the bathroom in the airport or maybe even on the plane.” I pulled up our boarding passes on my phone wallet and asked him to read them for me. He said, “RSW to Newark, WERE GOING TO NEW YORK?” The girls were still with us on the two phones watching his reaction on face time. Paul reacted to the big reveal in his excellent laid-back way, slowly and calmly saying, “ wow, cool, so we’re going to NY.” Sabrina laughed at his chill expression. Typical dad.
We are in mid-flight, snuggled in our seat side by side, looking down at the scattering of clouds that cover the hills and winding roads on the face of the earth below. The smell of pretzels and biacoff cookies fills the cabin. And the toddlers in front of me peek through the cracks of the seats singing and kicking around with energy and youthful bliss. It’s a beautiful morning, the seat belt sign is off, and it’s smooth sailing—a perfect start for the weekend to come
Yesterday I felt terrible. I walked around my neighborhood and felt rubbery and disoriented. I was trying hard to stay awake until at least 8 pm. Jet lag didn’t seem to hit Zoe, but for some reason, I always suffer more coming back to the states than when I go to NZ. Man, we were away for a little over 1/3rd of a year. That is crazy.
I was satisfied with the length of time I got to spend with my girls while away so much that none of us even cried when Zoe and I left for the airport. I found it unusual because I’m most of the time a blithering bawling mess. I know we will be back, though. I’m back in sunny Naples and so happy to sleep in my bed, snuggle my husband and play with our dogs.
Zoe’s friends have not left her side since the first day we returned. It’s fantastic to see. We are blessed with love, family, and friends on two continents. We travel between two of the most desired tourist destinations in the world. Both places are beautiful and have beaches and that, my dear, is a must for me. I am, however, really missing the hills, views, and random hiking trails of NZ. I woke up this morning wondering where I can drive to jump on a great hiking trail to explore but can’t be bothered traveling. SERIOUSLY! I am all traveled out at the moment.
Today I’ll unpack my bags and store my luggage until next week when we head out for another wee adventure. Watch this space.
Since I’ve been in NZ, I have grown accustomed to taking 1/2 marathon length walks and hiking every trail I come across. This is reminiscent of my early days in Nashville, before our big move to this country in 2002. With every step, I’ve explored and found places my husband hadn’t even been to, and he grew up here. The bushwalks and urban hiking have been the highlight of my time while visiting the City of Sails. My walks are most enjoyable because it’s been with our daughters and my close NZ friends who share my passion for the outdoors. With all of my recent activity, I have firmed up more than ever in the last five years, and my endurance has grown very strong. My current fitness has made me more positive about myself and my ability to get back into fighting-fit shape.
One morning about three weeks ago, I was looking at Facebook, and a photo of a friend popped up. She is someone I admire for her work and strength as a single mother. And I always felt body-positive beside her because we were both beautiful, voluptuous women. Her face popped up in my feed, but I had to enlarge it to make sure it was her. I haven’t seen her for over 18 months, and she has changed. She is THIN; I mean, she doesn’t even look like the same person, thin, but in a stunning happy, healthy way. I scanned my friend’s Facebook account photos to make sure it was her. I went back a year and found the voluptuous version of her and then flipped through her images, watching her shrink as time progressed to the present day. I Read posts to see if she had been Ill, and there was no indication of anything sinister. And then I realized she had made some changes to the way she approaches food. I sat in silence and overwhelming jealousy, envy, and self-pity. Very unattractive character traits that probably contribute to weight gain. I had the wind knocked out of me for some reason. I was disappointed in myself despite my recent progress and personal fitness success. I thought, “shit, I want to lose weight like that! I eat healthy! WHYYYYYYY!!!?” I pondered that I take meds for my Panic Disorder that make me happily put weight on, and I accepted that. It’s a thing I have to live with; I get it. But I didn’t stop there.
I messaged my friend and said, “wow, you look wonderful. Keep up the good work!” She responded with, “Noom aided by Covid shutdown, which kept me from restaurants.” Noom? This is the third incredibly shrinking friend I have heard of using this method to make healthy changes in their life. I did some research and after finding info on NOURISH by WebMD ( https://www.webmd.com/diet/a-z/noom-diet) which stated, “Noom’s Healthy Weight Program is a comprehensive wellness plan, with food, exercise, and mental health aspects built-in. The idea is to change your behaviors so that you not only take off the weight but maintain the weight loss long-term.” I committed to trying it; what do I have to lose besides 75 lbs or 34 KG, right?
Well, I’m exactly 14 days in, and I’ve lost 4 lbs; That’s 2 lbs a week. I feel good, and it’s not stressful or restrictive. It’s output = input with support and a course to reprogram your psychological approach and relationship with food. Anyone who knows me knows my shape has been a battle, and just when I decided that it didn’t matter if I was slim just as long as I was fit, my friend popped up and reminded me to try harder.
So I am. The reason I want to weigh less is so that I’m agile and move easily and quickly. I want to live a long mobile life and be able to roll on the floor and hike mountains with my someday grandchildren. I also owe it to myself to feel and be the best version of myself I can be for myself. So, Noom? At the moment, hell yeah, Noom. Watch this space as this is another attempt in many.
Jeri's Brain Dump 