Thé Art of Fluid Living

(And why not to ever set your iPhone to French as it will never stop auto correcting your English…)

I am staring at the remaining 45 minutes of a spring cleaning task I am glad I am doing today.

David and I just had a Saturday lunch date and this is our « kid free » weekend. I put kid free in quotes bc, when you’re a parent, you’re never really kid free. For example: I’m organizing their snack boxes, planning their lunches in the back of my mind and figuring out just how much detail I’m going to give them regarding the kitchen and organizational changes I am making relative to their needs and daily uses.

Kara, if you read this, the smoothie maker is now in the cabinet next to the plates. Beaucoup plus facile!

I have made and taken a couple calls about my self hatred comments. Oi. I am actively processing out of it and smiling at how this process really is my process. The more I call out and discuss what’s going on in my head, the faster I get on to the next.

« Nirvana in no time » should be the title of my memoir. Wink wink as the irony is in the fact it’s a life long, ongoing process.

I talked to one of my favorite encouragers last night, Dana. I remembered how my mental dismantling of corporate America is literally the time waster opposite to my book.

(Which I started chapter two of this morning….)

Ok he is active and building a shelf actually he is hugging me and just gave me a kiss #newlyweds but nonetheless all signs I should get things done.

And stop overthinking how it all fits together… stop planning the order of events… and rather I shall start fitting it all together and write it as it happens.

The art of fluid living.

Live from our kitchen is our latest hit song “I lost my beer”

Little Update @ The Usual. Need Travel.

Sup, fam.

In my last post, I wrote about my desire to start an anonymous blog. I did and then shared it with a bunch of people I know so it is actually a semi anonymous blog but easier there to process out some words for things that feel a little too “sticky and gross” here.

For example, I wrote about self hatred yesterday. I really don’t hate myself but there is a little nasty inner voice that says I do and I want to write it out. Doing so here usually involves a little censoring of myself because my mom might get worried. And she is sweet and I don’t want her to worry.

That being said, though retired life is good and things are working, there is some mental work needed to get some of that stupid stupid stupid shit out of my brain from bad bosses, weird feedback and messed up work dynamics.

I honestly think I kind of got messed with in the head a little bit over the course of my time working.

I recognize it in little blips that come up in my inner dialogue: how HARD I am on myself, my CONSTANT need to exceed expectations and raise the bar higher and higher and higher (and higher) and an EXTREME need to multi-task.

Do you know the other day I had to TRY to eat a sandwich without simultaneously cleaning it up? It was SO difficult that was for me! Especially when the WHOLE time I was eating, I was thinking about putting in my earpiece and making a dentist appointment for my kid.

I think there is something valuable for others here. I do not think working through this BS is just for me and my desire to get all of the saran wrap all the way off my brain.

I have daydreamed about writing a book on “The Director’s Role” or one on explaining how managing people is like building a house. I have taken calls from friends who are still in the grind and felt so compelled to record our conversation; where I am reminding them that the value they are putting on the perspective of their egotistical leadership is value they can reassess, not worry about and reinstate in their own strengths.

I get fired up and gung-ho about it then remember I don’t have to do anything. So I read a little, I make another cup of coffee and I go hug my husband while he is on a conference call or coding or sometimes I find him break dancing… so that’s special.

I have been resisting nose to the grindstone on everything and substituted having goals for practicing making biscuit dough without a recipe. Even that is a testament to how much I don’t want to do anything how somebody might suggest I do it. I am in my great unwinding. (AND MAN AM I GLAD I AM NOT DOING THIS AT SIXTY.) I honestly can’t imagine how much more engrained these work habits would be by then.

As for writing and yoga… My goal is to have my children’s rhymes and poetry out by Christmas. And God love it if Chicken Soup for the <something> soul doesn’t take one of my submissions. (I mean – COME ON. I don’t swear in them!)

Yoga has been kind of a weird place for me because of my tendency to rage against any kind of machine. I have a manager at the studio who gives me feedback on my ideas and I just think “oh not this again”. lol. So I am considering how to take some time off of yoga teaching to study my specific interests and reignite why I am doing it, what I want to offer and how I want to offer it so I can do it on my own.

I just really do not think I am supposed to have a boss.

With the warmer weather, I am meeting up for some walks with old coworkers and friends. It feels really good to have some time for people again and I am hopeful I can get back into a bit of a correspondence habit. Sending people letters in the mail feels really joyful.

I bought stamps and all, but I have never been lazy before so this is really fun. Did I ever tell you in college there were two years I had 5 W-2s? Yeah I got fired from jobs (time and attendance… never my specialty…) but I also just worked like crazy….

As for an update, that’s all I got. Text me call me email me to say what’s up. If you want the semi anonymous blog (it’s on let me know. It’s a little raw and unfiltered in terms of what I am expressing and processing. Kind of experimental and I make no apologies. :)

Have a great weekend. erin

PS: I miss the smell of my suitcase.

Thinking Positively about my Negative Thinking @ Desk in Family Room

I just took a delicious swig of the cool left over venti Pike Place I got yesterday morning after checking out of my hotel. What is it about the combination of a packed carry on tote and Starbucks that literally gives me life? I don’t know but I am a believer.

This is my writing warm up for the day. I woke up in room 1107 at a little boutique hotel yesterday and spent a full morning in a sunlit queen sized bed doing whatever I wanted in my notebooks and on the internet. A daughter turned 13 on Saturday and her and her best friend got some rare pandemic free time to just breathe, be social and be somewhere different.

The idea was generated out of excitement for them, they are great girls and deserve a little treat. However, as the day progressed and birthday morning prep and “party” execution and basketball games came and went; the excitement rolled over onto me. I have been missing the smell of my suitcase and long for the mental puzzle of a little bit of travel. And though the night was not necessary relaxing (though it is where I started to relax – as the eucalyptus soap washed the bonfire off) the morning for sure was.

I attempted to draw the curtains shut at the crack of dawn to learn that they actually did not shut. Grateful for the pretty morning after such a grey week, I woke as early as I normally would and began to peck through my heart and my thoughts to figure out: with no other stimuli – where I was in life, what I was wanting to do and spend time on and where I needed shifting.

My negative thinking is rarely negative thinking more than it is noticing the problems to be solved, the areas to transform. I told a friend this morning, when we caught up for a quick thirty, that I can tell when I am doing something wrong in my approach when my approach is causing me stress, worry, losing sleep or irritability. I have learned that means a belief I have isn’t helpful or it is a reminder that I am attempting to manage something outside of my own self (and to knock it off).

Because of this, I share my “negative thinking” openly. I am comfortable with it. And though I know that I have a MAJOR opportunity to change up *the way* I tell my stories so it doesn’t sound hyper critical of a specific kid or situation, I do trust the overall process I have learned to be true: you learn your words and your needs when you acknowledge the things that make you feel gross.

I decided to start up an anonymous blog on the internet to talk more candidly about some of the major themes in our house hold that this blog needs to keep private. I have my writing projects prioritized and moving along; with full access to my basement study. I have a new mental memo to self going on which is telling me what is not necessary in my writing and it feels helpful; like I have grown there.

Every single hard thing offers a way to make room for something better. The emotional labor of life is real and can create a trickling speed limit of how much you can take on, can sift through, can handle, at a time. I believe our lots in life are where our opportunities to demonstrate variations of loving lie. And, with that, I finish my writing warm up. Which I originally thought was going to be a fun little travel bit about Ojai.

Maybe next time.