On Living a Topless Life

I was recently in Miami on a girlfriends only weekend. I go a couple of times a year and it never disappoints. It provides me with a connection to sisterhood that I have not experienced in my own family of origin and challenges me to continually expand my life. These incredible friends have become family to me and it is a joy to spend time with each of them. I come home feeling energized and full of contentment, celebrating the absolute joy I have every day waking up just being me.

On the first trip nearly two years ago, my friends and I were approaching the beach and noticed several women were topless. My girlfriend told me she didn't think she would ever be able to bare her breasts and I agreed. We settled into our chairs and were having a little conversation when we noticed a tattoo artist drawing henna tattoos on the breasts of the topless sunbathers. In an instant my friend, who had said not ten minutes earlier that she would never be able to take her top off, had not only removed it but was now discussing the design she wanted painted on her breasts with the artist. Wow. The look on her face was priceless. She was in total bliss at her courage. I was in awe. There was a couple getting married on the beach facing the ocean who might not have anticipated partially clad women with tattooed breasts dancing on the sand in their forever after pictures. In her new found liberation from not only her top, my girlfriend suggested a fertility dance around the bride. It was hysterically funny and while I laughed, I still had my top on, feeling like I was on the outside looking in at all of the fun. Why?

I think the thought of going topless on the beach was too radical for me and I knew I would have the feeling of being so completely exposed. Someone would be able to look into my soul just by seeing my breasts. While everyone was having so much fun I was hesitant to join in. I could hide behind my swimsuit keeping all of my secrets, as well as my breasts, covered. And just what did I think I was hiding? Something? Nothing? It was an interesting thought to take out of my head and examine.

Over the last several years learning to love me exactly as I am has had so many twists and unexpected turns. Realizing that I don't really have secrets that are so incredibly shocking or shameful has been liberating. Getting into agreement with my life and the experiences I have had has been priceless. It has enabled me to shoot forward into a life bigger than I would have imagined even five years ago. I can take my top off on the beach because I want to and I like the feeling of freedom it gives me.

Learning to completely step into the light in my life, fearlessly and without shame has been so incredible. Today I stand for the woman that I am, the woman that I have been and the woman I have yet to become. It is a journey and I am so digging the life I live. It is richer, juicier, and more rewarding than I could have dreamed. I no longer live my life on the outside looking in. I live my life from the inside out, joyfully, transparently and confidently. I live my life without tan lines. So the message for today is I love my body more than hiding...

Here's to blowing the top off of your life!
XO,
Karen

On the Juxtaposition of Growing Older and Me...

I was listening to a much younger coworker talking about her upcoming trip to Italy and that she and her group would be staying in hostels, riding buses and taking trains, backpacking and hiking and I was reminded that my parents used to travel and stay in hostels, only they were Elderhostels. Then, the thought came to me, moving into my consciousness as slowly as a gentle breeze on a hot summer day, that I am old enough to be eligible to stay in an Elderhostel. Wow. At first I smiled at the thought, then laughed out loud. The ridiculousness of being fifty five years old is staggering. I don't feel like it, I don't look like it, and I certainly don't buy into the idea that I am on the downhill slide of my life. In fact I bought a pair of skinny jeans in the junior department yesterday. They have really cool rhinestones studs on the back pockets and belt loops and an even bigger rhinestone button on the fly. And I look pretty good in them if I do say so myself. I even bought a cute top to go with them. It is one that my granddaughter would love to have. Last night I was in the audience at the Roller Derby wearing pink glitter false eyelashes, a black miniskirt and hot pink tights. Age inappropriate? I don't think so, and who defines that anyway? My life swings from one side to the other of the over/under middle age measure and sometimes it makes me laugh out loud. The night before that I was enthralled at the symphony listening to a 20 something prodigy with my mouth agape, stunned at her ability to feel the music through her fingertips and on to the strings of her violin. She was astounding, thrilling to watch, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I remember thinking the symphony was for old people, yet there I was, completely enjoying the experience.

I love my ability to embrace both sides of my life in numbers, free of the encumbrances of worrying that someone will be looking at me, or judging me, labeling me, or even worse that I could possibly make a fool of myself. I wonder how my life would have been had I discovered earlier that it really wasn’t all about me. Seriously, people were not watching me all the time, laughing at me as much as I thought they were. As I was watching the emcee at the Roller Derby last night wearing nothing but lime green lace panties, black Doc Martins and a muscle shirt, I was envious of his ability to own his appearance. Who cares if he wore green panties? Maybe his mother, but he didn’t. He pranced, danced and totally owned the look. And I smiled while watching his confidence.

I think there are two camps when it comes to growing older. Those that look at it as an inevitability and make decisions based on “I’m too old for that” verses the other side that embraces growing older as an opportunity to try something they haven’t before, stretch out of a comfort zone, or learn that really age is just a number. Young at heart is a way of life, whether you are 9 or 90. My little old lady mother and her girlfriend wanted ice cream the other day and excitedly pulled out coupons for free cones from McDonald’s. As they approached the counter, they noticed the coupons were for ages 12 and younger. They stepped up to the counter confidently and asked the attendant, who was somewhere in the neighborhood of 16, if the coupon could apply if they were experiencing a second childhood. He consulted his 17 year old supervisor and with all seriousness they were awarded their free ice cream cones. They walked away giggling, licking their prize.

Me? Thinking of myself as older? Can't see how that goes together. I guess feeling young is just in my DNA, and for that I am grateful. So the message for today is I love my body more than thinking I'm too old for anything...

I’m off to skip through the park,
XO,
Karen

On Being my Own Party

I was at an exercise class earlier this week and talk turned to the weather and yet another approaching storm. I swore to the class if there was snow on the ground in the morning, I would wear my bikini under my clothes to work. It was pretty funny when I got up, looked out of the window and saw we had the beginnings of what looked to be another blizzard. So, true to my promise, when I got dressed I put on my bikini first in official protest of the snow, but mostly because it was fun, then put on my black dress and boots and left to start my day with a huge smile on my face. I got to work and told a friend who thought it was hilariously funny, another told me she was so sick of winter she went to VS and bought every pair of sunshine yellow underwear she could find. It was a little mini riot of fun at my own hands. When I got home from work, the snow was so beautiful on my balcony that I took off my shoes and did a little barefoot dance just to see my footprints. It was fun, and it was my idea.

I realize that through my life I have expected the job of making me happy belonged to someone else. A husband, a boyfriend, an employer, friends or a family member. It is interesting how my journey of seeking to live my life through fun and pleasure has given me more joy than anyone else could ever give me. See, I am my own party. I wear a bikini under my work clothes because it makes ME happy. I dance barefoot in the snow because it is joy of my own creation. I turn on my iPod and dance in my living room because it moves my energy and makes me feel good.

How many times have I complained because I wasn't having a good time or failed to come through for myself to stand in my own pleasure? Too many to count. I have blamed others for my lack of happiness. And knowing what I have learned about creating my own fun, I sincerely apologize to them for the expectation that they were responsible for me. I am responsible for me, in every respect. And it is liberating, exhilarating, and most of all completely fun. So, today I love my body more than expecting someone else to create my happiness...

I'm off to run errands, flirt with every man, woman and child within my reach and smile my way through this gorgeous day.

With joy in my heart,
XO,
Karen

Distraction and a counterproductive life...

The other day I left the grocery store with a basket full of delicious food, walked to the parking lot, opened the back door and place my groceries on the back seat, then open the front door, got into the car and suddenly felt like something was different. I looked at the particles of dried grass and dirt on the floor mat and wondered where they had come from. Then I looked at the cup holder and there was a can of an energy drink that I don't drink snuggled in the compartment. It all kind of happened in slow motion...I realized that I was in the wrong car. I jumped out and hoped that no one would see me, especially the owner of the car of which I had just taken temporary ownership. I looked around in a stunned daze and noticed another car, identical to the car I own but not assuming it was mine, grabbed another basket, yanked my groceries out of the back seat where they were erroneously stored, and shut the door. I cautiously walked to the next car and hit the button on my key to unlock. Fortunately all of my lights came on, I quickly unloaded my cart for the second time, calmly walked to the basket corral in the parking lot then made a beeline for my car and drove away as if nothing had happened. The first car I had opened was identical to mine, same color, model, year. As I drove away I found the experience hilariously funny, but upon more pondering I wondered how many times I have been distracted lately. Distracted from returning a phone call, remembering a birthday, or taking care of myself. In my job there is no room for error at all. I could potentially harm someone seriously if I was distracted. But in my life outside of my job, there is plenty of room for improvement.

So as I moved through this thought I thought of how many times I was just not paying attention. Not listening completely. Not being completely present for another, or just not showing up for myself at all. I thought how not returning a phone call from a friend, or missing a birthday that I knew was coming up that now has passed made me feel. It doesn't make me feel good. What was distracting me from the moment? By short changing another did I short change myself? I can reframe each memory with the fact that my timing is always perfect and elegant, but is it really?

Completely caring for myself means paying attention, loving each moment, living in the present. OK, I've got my own attention now...So today, the message is, other than remember to always lock your car so some unsuspecting person doesn't load her groceries into the backseat, is that for me, distraction is counterproductive to living a full life because I don't like the feeling it generates when I'm not paying attention. So , today I love my body more than distraction...

XO,
Karen

The Shift from Why to What According to Me....

I recently discovered a great blog that is centered around positive thinking and as I was voraciously devouring every word, it became so clear to me that life consists of a running commentary in our heads. Part of that commentary is acknowledging the "why" and moving on to the "what". By that I mean that I have reached a point in my life that the "why" doesn't matter as much as the "what."

See, when I'm in the "why" mode, "why did this have to happen to me?", it is so easy to remain in a victim role. It kind of falls into the "if only" someone wouldn't have done something, said something or contributed in anyway to the situation I currently find myself in, that allows me to not take responsibility for my own feelings. It also allows a very convenient excuse for not getting myself out of the current situation. It is someone else's fault. I have the luxury, if only momentarily, of getting off completely free from taking the responsibility of accepting my own thoughts. Then I have to weigh the reward...is the reward of giving away my power by not accepting my own responsibility greater than the reward of accepting responsibility and ultimate control of my life and my thoughts? Is taking a stand and changing the thought by moving forward into a possibly unknown outcome exciting or too terrifying to contemplate? Personally I find it exhilarating to think about what will happen to spur me to grow out of my comfort zone. A challenge. Yum.

By moving into the "what" mode, it is the complete ownership of the acceptance that I have made lemonade out of the lemons I have not only created, but the realization that I created the tree that grew the lemons in the first place (with the grateful nod to Davin for that one). If I take responsibility for my thoughts that lead to my actions, I strike a match to the trajectory of my life to ignite the jet fuel to rocket me forward into the best possible situation and the growth that comes along for the ride. I made the bargain with myself and the Universe that I would live the best life possible, and by doing that, I take myself out of the victim role (the "why" mentality) and move fearlessly forward armed with WHAT as my guide. See, the "why" doesn't matter. It is only the actions I take that propel me forward that are worth the contemplation...What is my next delicious pleasure? What will I do today that will change my life in a positive way? What can I bring to the table that is meaningful?

So the lesson for today is that I don't have to know the why anymore...I only need to know the what. Today I love my body more than why...
XO
Karen

A few words about vanity...

I made a comment the other day about our new uniforms at work and how I was unhappy with the color but it did bring out the blue in my eyes. With a wink and a smile I was told "you're so vain." While I was a little surprised and wondered about the intention of the comment and how it was completely uncalled for, it did give me pause to think about the difference between self confidence and being vain. It also reminded me that my father used to do that to me to "knock me down to size" when he thought I was too full of myself. My self confidence withered as a child when it would have been appropriate to have been nurtured. I can remember a time in the not way distant past that this would have had the same effect on me and I would have withered at the words of another.
It has been a process to unwind the old tapes that have played in my head and live fully in the new ones that are singing there now. When I think about the word vain, it has mostly negative connotations. Narcissistic, self centered, self absorbed, snooty. Merriam-Webster defines it as having or showing undue or excessive pride in one's appearance or actions. I have blue eyes. Fact. The blue color of the uniform makes my eyes appear more blue. Fact. Is stating a fact about myself a demonstration of conceit? I don't think so. I believe women especially are taught not to brag, not to celebrate achievements openly, not to look in the mirror and appreciate, within earshot of others how absolutely fabulous the reflection appears. I recently ordered a red dress online and when it arrived I tried it on and looked at myself in the mirror. I was stunned at how great it fit, how incredible I looked in it and how the color was absolutely perfect. It hugged my curves like a Ferrari on a test track. Fact.
This is all part of the journey of learning and loving myself fully, appreciating every inch of myself from head to toe, celebrating and owning the way I look, behave, respond, and feel about myself in all situations. Letting myself be affected by the judgment of another is so old news. Is being self confident in my appearance only appropriate if I keep it to myself? I don't think so. I love to share my pride with my friends, just as I love to hear the pride they have in themselves. I think there is a mighty difference between pride and self confidence and vanity. The difference is in the attitude. Taking on the judgment by others is an old garment that doesn't fit me anymore. Even if it is done with a wink and a smile. A dig is a dig, regardless of how it is packaged. Today, I am gratefully reminded how easy it is to hand my power over to another and I am deliciously reminded that I love my body more than allowing others to label me...I'm going to go try on that dress again...
Have a fabulous, stunning day,
XO,
Karen

Loving my body with a Pleasure Infusion

I was asked a question by a friend today...Why is it so easy to see the beauty all around and so difficult to see the beauty in ourselves? My take on the whole thing is that we are so bombarded by negativity, and we take the easy road of tolerance just bobbing along in the river of our lives. It is easy to bob along, wanting a better life but not willing to stretch to get it. Playing the hand we are dealt, wondering like the old song "Is that all there is?" Changing myself will take too much time, I don't think I can do that, or the world famous, totally stuck in the muck statement "that's just the way I am." Well, does the way you are work for you? Do you truly desire better, or are you completely satisfied being the same, believing your life will be better when the kids are grown, when you lose 20 pounds, or when you have a boyfriend? Maybe your life will be better when you have a new house, a better wardrobe, more money or a better job. Yes, more money would make things better. Really? I disagree. I believe you have every thing you need right now because the life you have is the life of your own creation. Yup, you created your pleasure, your pain, your joy, or your sorrows. The trick is what you do with them. Do you celebrate you? I do. I dance. I sing, I write. I go to work and I do the best I can for 12 hours. I have the desire to choose the best for me. I care for myself like I would care for a child. I admire my body in the mirror. I love myself up from the tips of each strand of my blonde hair to the red polish on my toenails. Especially when I'm not feeling good about myself. Then it becomes required that I spend extra time with me doing pleasure homework. I light candles. I take deliciously scented bubble baths. I put on my favorite music. I take a nap. I surround myself with positive energy. I don't watch sensationalist news, or read the paper or watch CSI or Law and Order anymore. I am busy stuffing myself with pleasure and I don't have the capacity to tolerate the negativity right now. I don't believe I have missed anything that I should have known that would have changed my life. A pleasure centered life, that centers around my own pleasure, is the life I am choosing right now. It is a conscious decision, a conscious choice to live a life of self love just as it would be a choice to live a life of apathy or indifference. Some days it is more work than others, but I know that during those times when I am feeling out of balance, it becomes critical that I journal gratitude, that I look at myself in the mirror and blow myself a kiss. A cup that is overflowing with pleasure and happiness is finally able to spill over to others because I'm not working on vapors of happiness that I used to have, remembrances of a body I used to have, or a lover that has moved on. I choose to find the beauty in just being me, exactly as I am, occupying this space today on the planet. Even down to the blue spider veins in my legs--they are the roadmap of my 55 years on this planet and they are beautiful. It is my full time job to find the beauty in myself...and I love my job....Today, I love my body more than the life I thought I desired, because I realize the life I desire is the life I am living. Blowing you a kiss, Gorgeous. God, you look so hot in that dress...Really. So hot...
XO,
Karen