The Bold Soul

Taking a deep breath before I dive back in

I'm working full-blast to finish a memoir project for a client; hence, not much energy or time for blogging (or socializing, or eating, or bathing... sorry, TMI). We've started this book more than two YEARS ago (don't ask why a project that was supposed to take 6-9 months took about 30 months instead... it was mostly all my fault) and now it appears we will complete it no later than tomorrow if things continue to go well.

Oh, the celebrating that will happen when this is done! And then... it's back to work on MY book, and NOTHING ELSE. Meaning I will have no income whatsoever until I sell the book, but I will also have no more reasons to procrastinate. So it's all good.

Better put the last few bottles of our wedding champagne on ice now, though. I plan to drink a lot when this project is done. And I mean, a LOT.

A Quiet Parisian Life

You may have noticed I haven't posted much of anything this month. I've been in a rather quiet mood, actually. I think I get like this in January: the fun and chaos of the holidays is behind me; the weather generally sucks (today it's just raining steadily, and I'm guessing it will be like this all day long) and there has been little sunshine; I've been scrambling to finish a client's book after over two years of working on it; and other than the big soldes, nothing much seems to be going on. (I did manage to score a totally adorable teal-blue purse yesterday at Lollipops in the Marais, the first time in three years of the Paris soldes that I have actually bought myself something I liked but didn't necessarily need. And I didn't even buy it in black. For 25€, who could resist?) Well, we are starting to plan our move this spring and look for another apartment, but other than that... we're mostly just hanging out here at the house.

I think this is known as being in hibernation mode.

I just do whatever I need to do on any given day. I am seeing or talking with friends every week, but I feel no pressure or motivation to get out there and socialize on a grand scale. I feel both bored AND boring, the way I feel every January. Essentially, I am killing time while I wait for warmer weather and more daylight. I'm not depressed, just... quiet. Nothing much to say. Just spending time ensemble with Georges and the kids, in a quiet Parisian life.

So... I'll post some pictures instead. If it's true that a picture is worth a thousand words, then some photo blog posts ought to keep me in your good graces until I can come up with something more interesting to write about.

 

A bit of graffiti in the Marais.

In which I blog about absolutely nothing whatsoever

This post is about nothing. Because I really seem to have a bad case of Blogger's Block this week. And yes, it's been nearly an entire week since I last blogged, and it's rare that I go that long unless I'm traveling or sick. 

This was a week in which nothing stupendous happened. My little step-son was home with us on the last days of his Toussaint holidays and that took up a bit of extra time for me, but that was only 2 or 3 days and he's really quite good; even had a playmate on one of the days. So that's no excuse for not blogging.

I have photos I could post. I could have gushed about how I just noticed my visitor counter crossed the 300 mark (and I didn't notice until now, when it's 300,693). I can usually find something that interests me enough to write about it. Yet not even the Yankees winning the World Series or my home state of New Jersey putting another Republican in the Governor's mansion (not that I was so enamored of Corzine) has interested me enough to make an entire post about things the professional journalists are already getting PAID to write about.

Maybe that's it. I want to write and get paid for it. I love my blog but it's not exactly paying my bills.

I'm feeling... slightly demotivated, I suppose you could say. Maybe it's because I'm spending more time lately editing a client's book. And thinking about (if not always actually working on) my own book. I did send out three query letters to literary agents last week. So that was something at least. Or maybe it's the lousy weather in Paris the past few days.

Or maybe there's just no reason for it at all. And it just is what it is. And what it IS, is that I just don't feel much like blogging at the moment. (Much to the chagrin of my biggest fan... Georges. Sorry, sweetie.)

Don't misunderstand: I am not quitting blogging. I just need to find my muse again. Until then... bear with me. Or follow me on Twitter if you just have to have a Bold Soul fix, because I seem to at least be able to crank out those 140-character blurbs on a daily basis.

Now... let's move along. Nothing to see here.

Harder than it looks

I just needed to take a moment and say:

ARRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

...

[deep breath]

Now that I've gotten THAT out of my system... I'm just feeling frustrated with my inability to FINISH THIS 4th CHAPTER I'm working on. Why, oh why, did I think it would be EASIER to write this book than my first one, just because it's a memoir and a lot of the information is already tucked away neatly in my brain, or even on this blog?

It's not easier. And because it's not "flowing" the way I'd wanted or hoped, I'm resorting to my usual stalling strategy of Finding Other Things That Need Doing. Like doing the laundry. Or food shopping. Filing my fingernails. Twittering. Facebooking. Blogging.

And I know there is only one solution: to just get back into it and WRITE IT. The only way through is... THROUGH. All other non-essentials must STOP, at least for the time being.

So, forgive me if I don't blog as frequently or if my posts aren't all that interesting for a while. I really just need to work on this book. If I don't, I'll regret it. And I don't "do" regrets.

Thanks for letting me whine for a minute. Everyone needs to blow off some steam, every so often. Even us Bold Souls.

I still choose love

It's been eight years today. And I still remember everything. There's nothing more I can say, so instead I'll just reprint the essay I wrote that day, which now appears on my web site along with the preface I added some time afterward. Even eight years later, it still says everything I am feeling.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> ♥ <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Author's Preface: At precisely 10:32am on the morning of September 11th, 2001, I turned on my television expecting to see the usual daily "stuff", and watched in horror and disbelief at the events which were unfolding before me, just miles from my home in northern New Jersey. On the TV screen, I saw an image of a huge cloud of dust enveloping some city I couldn't identify, and the caption said "Twin Towers collapsed". At first I thought it was a movie, until I realized every TV station was showing the same thing, and then I thought, "They must be talking about some OTHER Twin Towers because they can't mean New York!" This is how I learned of the terrorism that hit our country, head-on -- just ONE MINUTE after the second tower fell.

Like all of you who saw it on TV or in person, I was stunned by what I was seeing, as more and more news footage came in throughout the day. I watched, glued to my seat for hours, as I learned of the attack on the Pentagon, the grounding of all air traffic over U.S. airspace, and the crash of Flight 93 over a field in Pennsylvania. I could not comprehend what could possibly be going through the minds of the people who planned and executed these attacks on thousands of innocent people.

Later that long and terrible day, I decided to write about what I felt, as I often do when I am in emotional distress and trying to make sense of that which is senseless. The following essay is what I created in an attempt to ease my own pain, describe my strong emotions, and to offer some relief to my clients and e-zine readers. This was originally published on September 11th, 2001 via my e-zine, Living Boldly®. I am reprinting it here, along with a photo I took in 1990, in rememberance of the thousands of people who were lost that day, and their loved ones who are still struggling to come to terms with their losses. May we never forget them.


Healing the Global Heart
Tuesday, September 11, 2001

Today, I, like all of you and others around the world, I am shocked and saddened by what has happened in our world today. I live in northern New Jersey, about 40 miles outside of New York City. Living so close to NY, everyone I know seems to either work in the city or know someone who does. At the present time, I am grateful beyond words that of all the friends and colleagues I've talked with today (and there have been many), all the news has been good and most people seem to be accounted for.


Nevertheless, this has changed me forever, as I'm sure it has changed you. No matter where you are in the world, whether or not you are American, an act of such colossal hatred and calculated violence touches each one of us. It makes us wonder if anything at all makes sense, makes us question our faith, makes us question what we know to be true.

So tonight, as I sit at my computer with the news playing in the background, I'd like to take a moment to share what I know to be true, even in the face of this unimaginable death, pain, destruction and sadness. This is my way of coming to terms with what seems impossible to comprehend, so I hope you take this in the spirit in which it is given -- the spirit of love and healing. I hope that each of you is able to find his or her own truth in these events.

I know this to be true:

... that everything DOES happen for a reason, and there ARE no accidents - even when what's happening doesn't make sense to our human minds, which always want to seek the "rational" answer. I might not understand this, now or ever, but I can accept that there IS a good reason and that God has things under control.

... that there is some good in every human being - even when one approaches you in violence as an enemy.

... that for any person to commit such acts against his fellow human beings, he must be in tremendous pain, for only a person in the worst pain imaginable could believe that acts of violence and hatred can lead to anything good and pure. And I know that these people are doing the best they can with what they know, just as we all are, even though their "best" is what we see before us today on the news.

... that I can still have faith even when my faith is put to such a test. I can put my faith in the Universe, and trust that everything that is happening is by design and is empirically perfect - even when it feels anything BUT perfect.

... that the only way another person can truly hurt me is if I lose my faith, lose my hope, lose my sense of humor, lose my ability to forgive, lose my ability to love all mankind. If I can keep these in the face of tragedy, I win.

... that I can have forgiveness in my heart for the people who would commit such acts of violence and seek to kill people they have never met, even while I could never condone or excuse their choice to commit these acts and even while I believe that justice should be served. In being open to forgive them, I begin to heal my own pain. In praying for my enemies, I am choosing the path of love. In the face of love, fear cannot stand. So I choose love.

What I know to be true is -- if these events had not occurred, I might not have had the opportunity to look at these truths, to take them out for a "test drive" and to learn that they are the foundation of Who I Am. I now have evidence that I can stand firmly on this foundation of Who I Am and that these truths can sustain me.

And so I am, in the end, grateful for this lesson, even while I grieve with the world for the terrible loss of life; even while I deal with my own anger over the pain and suffering of the injured and the families of the victims; even while I cry for children who have lost their parents or parents who have lost their children, for anyone who has lost someone they cared about today.

We live in a relative Universe, which by definition means that we come to understand what a thing is by being able to compare it to its opposite. We cannot know what Light is if we do not know what Dark looks like. We cannot know what Sound is if we do not understand Silence. We cannot truly know Love if we do not, at least once, have the experience of what Hate looks like and feels like. Today, there is Darkness - but there will soon be Light once again, and we can be grateful. Today, there is Silence as we grieve and as we wait quietly for news - but soon enough we will again know the pleasure of the Sound of laughter, of children, of birds, of the wind in the trees, and this will bring us Peace. Today, we have seen what Hate can do, and the world feels out of control. Now, let us strive in our lives to be an expression of what LOVE looks like, and know that change starts with each one of us.

Join me in a prayer tonight and in the days to come as we work to heal what has happened...

Pray that the hearts of those who would commit acts of violence will be opened to love, for only love can heal a heart hardened by hate.

Pray that the hearts of those who wait in fear for news of their loved ones will be granted peace through the love we send them tonight and in the days to come, for only love can truly bring peace in the face of fear.

Pray that the hearts of those who have suffered such tremendous loss can be healed and comforted by love, for only love can heal a wound of such depth.

Pray that the hearts of our leaders in government, both here in the U.S. and around the world, will be guided by love, for only love can provide the wisdom these men and women need to help our nation and our world heal itself.

Pray that the hearts of our citizens in the U.S. will be softened by love, not hardened by anger and the need for revenge, for only love can help us honor the memories of those we have lost and to seek justice in a way that will empower us, not cause further pain and destruction.

On a day like this, it seems all those things we think are such problems, such a big deal most of the time, shrink into nothing. We are reminded, all too vividly, of what really matters. Tell someone you love them. Hug your children. Play with your pets. Smile at a stranger on the street. Express your gratitude for the abundance in your life.

May our hearts be opened. May our pain be healed. May our shock and anguish be softened in time. May we remember to walk in love and peace, and to pass it on. And in so doing, may we honor the victims. May their passing not be in vain. May it be a wake-up call which all the world hears and heeds.

Peace be with you and your loved ones. Let the healing begin.

---

Copyright © 2001 Lisa Taylor Huff. May be forwarded or reprinted in its entirety, without alterations, including this copyright statement, with written permission from the author.

If you can't beat 'em...

In spite of my recent kvetching about the overwhelm of social networking sites -- or perhaps because of it -- I've decided it's better for my sanity and peace of mind to swim with the tide rather than against the tidal wave.

In other words, I'm on the bandwagon now and I found a way to manage it a bit better so it's more fun and less overwhelming (whew!)

I'm now using TweetDeck to do most of my Twittering. You can Follow Me on Twitter, if you like.

Or, if you prefer Facebook, I have now set up a Fan Page you can join. I've already got a Facebook account, but I decided to keep that for my personal use only. So, the new Fan Page is the place to go to stay connected with me as a writer, author and blogger. I'll post updates there about blog posts, news about how it's going with my next book (right now in the early stages), and so on. The Fan Page also has some discussion topics I've set up (and feel free to send me your suggestions for new topics) so we can really interact together.

Eventually I may become more active over at Linked-In and other social networking sites but for now, I'm mainly putting in the time at these two sites. Hope to see some of you one place or the other. And, if you're on neither Twitter nor Facebook and want to stay up-to-date with The Bold Soul, you can just subscribe to that mailing list as well so you'll know when I've posted something new. (I never give out or sell my mailing list addresses to anyone, in case you were wondering, nor do I buy addresses or "harvest" them. If you're on one of my lists, it's because you must have opted in at some point.)

And now, back to our regularly scheduled programming...

Jongleuse

Allow me to introduce myself. Je m'appelle la Jongleuse.

Juggle. Juggle. Juggle. All day long, I'm trying to keep those balls in the air, just like a lot of other women and a fair number of men, too. I will spare you the gory details of just what and how much I am trying to juggle because it will tempt us both to draw comparisons (the "Oh, you think YOU have it bad; you should see MY life!" kind of thing), and I don't think that's fair to anyone as it would be like comparing juggling apples and oranges. Instead, I want to talk about how I am really, REALLY struggling right now with the juggling act.

I've always thought of myself as a pretty successful juggler, although not in the literal sense; if I tried to juggle raw eggs they'd end up smashed on the floor during the first rotation. But in life, I mean, I always have had to juggle things like multiple work responsibilities, clients and projects, and I was always damn good at it. I was always known as the kind of person who could be relied upon to get it done, and get it done well and on time, and I was proud of that reputation.

And today I am wondering one thing: where in the hell did THAT woman go? Because that part of "me" seems to have completely disappeared, and I'm not at all happy about it as I really need her, now more than ever. Without her, I'm dropping balls right and left, and constantly feeling the need to apologize to people because of it. "Sorry, I didn't get to the supermarket today, we're out of juice, and there's nothing to eat for dinner." "I know I promised I'd have that chapter written three days ago but I need a few more days." "I feel like a bad friend because I haven't called you/seen you in AGES, and I'm so sorry!" I am as sick of apologizing for my lapses in productivity as other people probably are of listening to the apologies.

Maybe it's that I'm coming to the REAL juggling act -- love, marriage, children, house care, friends, PLUS career -- later in life, and that's why lately I feel like I am absolutely drowning when it comes to my professional productivity. Or more to the point, the LACK of it. Is this the "can't teach an old dog new tricks" syndrome? Am I too old now to leap-frog from one thing to another and still be able to accomplish something? I am finding it much harder than it used to be to handle interruptions in my work, or even to get myself started to work. I am feeling completely overwhelmed by the sum total of the massive life changes of the past couple of years, and it's affecting my ability to focus on something that is actually really important to me:

WRITING.

I have two big client projects that need to be finished but which are in some state of partial completion, crawling along at a snail's pace for well over a year now; and while some of the delays were not of my doing, many of them were. I have a book I want to write, a book I am dying to write and which I think about writing every single day, but a book I'm completely stalled in even really starting. I also need to get out there and pick up some new projects to keep some kind of cash flow going because it's not like this blog is making me any money. And what am I doing? NOTHING. Well, nothing productive, at any rate, and nothing that is advancing the cause, so to speak.

Logic, of course, has nothing to do with any of this stuff I'm struggling with. I know all the things I'm supposed to do; I've coached dozens of people in this exact situation for years. I know all the time management tricks, and I know that if I (for instance) lit a fire under my own butt and finished even one of those two client projects, I'd feel like a zillion per cent better about everything.

Yet I feel completely stuck. I have hit the proverbial wall like a cartoon character, and haven't managed to peel myself off yet. Every day I wake up and resolve to do better; an hour or so later when I could be and should be writing, I am frittering instead.

I can feel that I'm utterly distracted by "things". The things I'm doing when I should be doing other things; the things I'm not doing but want to do; and future things. On the one hand, some of the things I'm distracted by are really good things. I'm still head over heels in love with the love of my life, and every day he gives me something to smile about. Marrying Georges, despite the peripheral challenges that went along with merging our two lives together, is still the best decision I ever made and really it was the most effortless decision, too. There are challenges in the step-mom department from time to time with one or another of the three kids that sometimes stress me out, but then there are also really GREAT things that go on nearly every day that make me feel I'm doing at least some things right as a novice parent-figure. And there are some plans on the table for the future that are all good as well.

But even the good stuff can distract a person and turn her from a poster child for efficiency into the most scatterbrained wreck of a woman. And right now I feel a lot closer to "wreck" on the spectrum.

I have people I look to as role models in my life, people I know who have had even more challenges in the whole "life balance" department than I am having, and who still managed to write books or run businesses, or even get a hair cut. I feel like I am turning into one of those fat, frumpy, haus-fraus who feel lucky if they manage to take a shower every other day. I know I am just as smart as my role models, and in my own way (again, trying to avoid detailed comparisons) I'm just as brilliant and talented, and just as capable.

And I feel completely stuck as to how to sort this out and get the pendulum swinging in the other direction.

The good news is, I'm not on my own in all this. I have a husband I can actually TALK to about these things, and he's fantastic. But I don't expect him to shoulder the burden of all my emotional needs, so I've recently reached out to a friend/coach who I'm hoping can shine a little light on things for me, to at least give me a gentle shove (with a cattle prod) in the right direction. She's one of those role models I mentioned who has successfully "been there and done that", and more than once, too. I think I will be in good hands.

I also have enough life experience and perspective to know that this, too, shall pass in time. I may feel stuck now, but I know it won't be forever. After a roller-coaster of a year where my life completely changed just because I decided to step off a bus and meet a new man one Tuesday afternoon, now I am having to deal with the aftermath, as well as to seek new dreams to chase. I have these bold new dreams in my sights -- both of them -- and now it's a matter of getting my act together so I can actually get there, and sooner rather than later. Those dreams, once attained, will change my life once again in ways I probably can't even imagine at the present time. And I'll have to learn to cope with THAT new reality as well, all over again. Juggling, juggling and more juggling.

C'est la vie pour la Jongleuse.

Four Years and Counting

Today, the Bold Soul is 4 years old!

It is hard to get my brain wrapped around that: I've been writing and producing this blog for FOUR YEARS. And that in doing so, I managed to achieve and even exceed my wildest dreams.

When I started, it was more as an exercise in writing more regularly and also to explore just what, exactly, this blogging stuff was all about, as I had a few friends who were less technically trained than I who had already jumped into the blogosphere with both feet. I felt I might be left behind if I didn't check it out, and so began my first blog entry.

It didn't take long for my blog to find it's true focus and purpose: as a means of keeping me on track toward my goal of moving to Paris. During Year 1 of The Bold Soul, that's what I tried to write about: my desire to move to Paris and why I wanted to do it; what I was doing both physically and emotionally to prepare myself for it; the challenges I was meeting in achieving what I wanted. I wrote about other things going on in my life as well: family, friends and occasionally work.

A bit more than halfway through Year 2, after much frustration with "WHY IS IT TAKING SO LONG?", it finally happened. I got an opportunity to move with the offer of a place to stay. There were still challenges to be met and overcome, but on November 10th, 2006, I arrived with suitcases in hand. And my life began anew.

Year 3 was my dream-come-true-year. I explored Paris, alone or with visiting friends. I made new friends here. I traveled outside of Paris, in part for some research for a future book based on my grandmother's similar travels in 1956. I also helped that same grandmother make her transition into whatever happens next when our souls leave our bodies, and she passed away peacefully on December 28th, 2007.

Oh... and by the way, that was the year in which I met Georges. 

Meeting Georges happened at a time when I really wasn't sure what my next move was. Should I stay in Paris? Could I even afford to stay, the economy and exchange rates being what they were and getting worse all the time? Did I really want to live here long-term, or could I be satisfied with just having spent the better part of a year or so there? I didn't have the answers as October rolled around but I knew one thing: I wasn't ready to leave Paris YET.

I met Georges just days later... and I had my answer.

 So Year 4 for the Bold Soul was about Love... REAL Love. The "He's DEFINITELY Into Me!" kind of love. And it was also about being part of a couple. Living together. Getting engaged. Getting married. Getting established in a new country "for keeps". And becoming a step-mother. Oh, yeah... and slave to a cat (that one I could have done without, but sometimes life gives you special challenges to conquer).

Now as Year 5 begins, what's next for this Bold Soul? Well, I wish I had a crystal ball, but I don't. I have a few projects in the works, both personally and professionally, and we'll see how those turn out... and if they do, then you'll be hearing more about them. I do know that I am still "in transition" with my life here. I continue to have challenges related to not having fully mastered the French language. I have things to deal with for immigration (such as my final mandatory all-day "civics" seminar this Friday). We are planning to do some traveling and hopefully take our real honeymoon to... Venice, perhaps?

What I know for sure is this: I love writing this blog. And I don't plan to stop doing it any time soon. It has not only served it's original purpose but it's given me so much more. At nearly 1,300 posts and over 3,500 comments, I think it's safe to say it's given you something, too. What more could I ask for from something that started out as a writing exercise?

So, it's a happy day today, and I am truly grateful. And I thank all of you, the Bold Soul readers, for helping me make it possible to be here as I enter my 5th year of blogging. Let's celebrate and share the happiness with Barbra and Judy, shall we?

(Or perhaps you prefer the solo versions. Didn't Judy have great legs for a little woman? And Babs looks so elegant in that up-do.)

Bienvenue à l'Année 5, mes amis!

Be the Author... of Your Own Life™

Well, I've gone and done it. I've started a second blog. Actually, this is/was an e-mail newsletter I've been publishing periodically, in various incarnations, since 1998 or 1999, but I recently migrated it to the blog platform for easier management.

It's called "Be the Author... of Your Own Life™". It focuses on both the challenges of writing boldly, and of living boldly. Here's an excerpt from the most recent post, in which you can catch me thinking out loud about my struggle with writer's block:

I think the problem is fear. It might sound odd to say that "fear" is at the root of my writer's block, that fear is what causes me to waste hours playing computer games or surfing the 'Net or hanging around Facebook when I should be writing. But I think fear is what's behind it all.

But fear of what?

I think I am afraid to be brilliant. There, I've said it. Somewhere in the core of my soul, I know that I am a brilliant writer. Maybe not brilliant in a way that will someday win me a Pulitzer -- I'm not a literary type of writer -- but in my own unique way, I have a gift. I've always had it. It's always been there. It was just hidden for a very long time behind other skills and other priorities, but more and more I think I am reaching the point where I can't hide behind those other things. I can't hide the brilliance any more because the brilliance in my soul wants to shine out, and it will not be denied any longer.

Check it out, and if you like it there's a subscription box in the sidebar so you can get updates via email. I won't be posting there anywhere near as often as I post on The Bold Soul, so it might be preferable to subscribe to the mailing list rather than adding the blog to your daily Bloglines or other news feed.

Need your opinion, s'il vous plait

Hello readers... once again, a very happy, healthy and prosperous 2009 and I hope your year is off to a smashing start! I have a quick favor to ask: I need some feedback from you all on a project I'm working on.

I have long wanted to put together a series of short e-booklets on various topics where I feel I have some valuable professional or life experience to share. And I have decided that NOW is the right time for me to finally write them (let's face it, last year was a bit crazy -- but in a good way, of course). The problem is, the list is long and my time is limited, and as these are e-booklets I'd like to sell via my web site (at a very small, reasonable price), I want to make sure I put my time where it will do everyone the most good. In other words, I don't want to waste time writing something no one will want to read. That's just not good business.

Instead of trying to make an educated guess at what the public might want, I thought, "Hey! I've got a bunch of people right here who can help me narrow the field!" That means YOU!

So... here is a list of topics I had in mind. All I need is for you to take a few minutes of your time, and add a comment (or send me an email if you're having trouble commenting or prefer to write privately) and tell me which of these you'd be willing to pay somewhere in the neighborhood of $2.95 - $9.95 (depending on the size of the e-booklet, but no more than $9.95 to keep it very affordable) to download and read. Or tell me "None of the above". Or feel free to write in your own ideas about something you think I'd be a good subject matter "expert" in for a project such as this -- who knows, maybe I missed something!

This may not be very scientific but it's as close to a "focus group" as I can get right now, and your help would be greatly appreciated. So... regular comments and lurkers alike, please leave your feedback now! Just type in the numbers for each topic that interests you, plus any other ideas you'd care to offer. Or send me an email with the same information. Merci mille fois!

POTENTIAL E-BOOKLET TOPICS:

1. Organizing and Writing Your Web Site Copy for Best Results. I've done this for years for my clients, and now I can teach you how to develop web site copy that will help your business stand out from the masses of badly designed and written web sites!
2. Tips for Creating a Web Site or Blog for your Small Business. Once again, I provide my top tips from my 17 years as a professional web designer to help you develop (or improve) your small business web site or blog. It's easier than you think!
3. Coaching Yourself to Making Better Decisions. For over a decade, I have coached people from all walks of life and around the world to make better decisions by figuring out what matters most. I even have my own copyrighted decision-making tool that is included for free in this e-booklet!
4. Learning to Trust Your Intuition FIRST -- and Other People's Opinions LAST. After coaching hundreds of clients, it's clear to me that many people defer to other people's opinions or judgment before trusting their own gut instincts. In this booklet, you can learn how to trust yourself first and foremost -- and make better choices in life as a result.
5. The Power of Attraction: Redesigning Your Life through Focused Intention. I've done it myself, and I've coached others to do it. When you're clear on what you really want, you set the wheels in motion to make any changes you want to make, and create the life of your dreams. Find out how and let this be the best year of your life!
6. Living Boldly: How to Up the Ante and Live the Life You Really Want. From my blog comments and reader e-mails, and from coaching clients privately over the past 10+ years, I know how this topic -- Living Boldly -- touches all of us in different ways. If you're not Living Boldly, now is your chance to start, and why wait another year!
7. NONE OF THE ABOVE -- You wouldn't be interested in downloading an e-booklet on this topic, for a fee or maybe even for free. That's OK -- tell me so, then tell me what you WOULD be willing to pay to read!

Don't forget to WRITE IN your own ideas and suggestions, and if you send me a write-in idea that's not on the list and I decide to use it, I'll send you a FREE copy when I'm done! Thanks in advance and I'll keep you posted on which e-booklets I'm actively working on.

Looking forward to LOTS of comments on this one...

My Favorite Librarian

I was messing around with Google last night when I inadvertently discovered that the Detroit Public Library system actually has a copy of my book on hand!

I know there are a lot of authors who don't like lending libraries because it means people aren't paying cold, hard cash for their books. But seriously? I am feeling very validated right now, knowing that a librarian in Detroit felt my little coaching book was worth putting on her library shelves.

Whoever that librarian was, I'd like to send her a box of Laduree macarons, a miniature Eiffel Tower for her desk and give her a big, fat bisou.

If you live in the Detroit area and are an aspiring author, feel free to check out the book at the library. Or you COULD pay the $19.95 and get your own copy. Either way, maybe you'll FINALLY write your book!

Purpose vs. Expectation

This is not an easy post for me to write. For one thing, I'm out of town on a serious family matter, and I have quite enough on my plate, things much more important to me than this blog (as important to me as my blog is, it will never take the place of my loved ones). For another thing, I suspect that what I'm about to say will in the end not change a whole lot of what's bothering me.

Yet I feel compelled to write it anyway, and when I feel this strongly about something I know I just have to go with it. So here goes... I'm throwing myself in the lion's mouth.

I started this blog for several reasons, all of them personal. One, I wanted a creative outlet for my writing and to get myself into a regular writing practice. In this, I have succeeded; writing this blog is one of the great joys of my life, not only for the outlet it gives me but for the wonderful people I have met both virtually and in real time as a result of having this blog.

Two, I started it over three and a half years ago as a means of staying focused on my larger dream: moving to Paris and having the experience of challenging myself with a life abroad, for however long I could manage it. Well, THAT, too, surpassed even my own expectations, and I never expected the gift of lasting love to come into my life after first arriving in Paris two years ago tomorrow.

Three, I wanted to use the blog as part of my writer's portfolio, building a body of work that would someday lead to something bigger. This one, I'm still working on but many things have been taking shape of late as a result of the writing I've done here, and I've even gotten clients in the past on the strength of my blog writing. So this has been a success, too, and I expect more to come in the future.

Lastly, I hoped the blog might attract interesting people and the opportunity for interesting dialogue, in so much as it's possible to dialogue on a blog (which isn't what blogging is intended for, really). In general, I feel this hope has also been manifested and the vast majority of people who have chosen to become regular readers and at least occasional commentors have been delightful to "meet" and interact with. Some of them have even become close and very dear friends, for which I'm profoundly grateful. I treasure your comments and direct emails, and value the contributions you have made to the blog over the past years. I hope you'll continue to come back again and again, because the world needs as many Bold Souls as it can handle.

But from time to time, there is another category of commentors that have surfaced: those that clearly don't like what I have to say, for one reason or another, and the reasons have been varied. They seem to fall into several archetypes:

• The Argumentative Ones: people who, for reasons best known only to themselves, love a good argument and show up looking for one, often where no argument previously existed. If they can't find an argument, they'll MAKE one.
• The Angry Ones: those who take something I've expressed, often out of context or else they've just completely misunderstood my intent, and react to it so strongly that I am sometimes taken aback at the fury with which they attack me over what they THOUGHT I meant, even when I didn't.
• The Entitled Ones: there seem to be a very specific class of blog readers out there who feel the Internet is their personal domain, and that it's their job to police it and route out bloggers who don't fit their expectations. They take a personal blog like mine and try to pick it apart on the premise of "Hey, YOU put yourself out here and therefore I should be able to say anything I like about what you wrote and furthermore I should be able to say it in any WAY I like no matter how rude or nasty I might be. And I don't like what you're about so why don't you just go away!" -- Who died and left them Boss of the Blogosophere, I'd like to know? Can't they just live and let blog? Don't they have better things to do with their time?
• The "How Dare You Change Your Blog" Ones: these are sometimes the Entitled Ones as well. They read a blog, love it initially and are often very prolific and supportive commentors, but over time they get very emotionally invested in the blog and what they expect out of it -- and then if the blogger dares to move "off program" in a new direction (maybe because the blogger's LIFE has moved in new direction?), they are mortally offended and often pretty mean about. I haven't really come across this one often (yet) but have seen it happen to Dooce and Petite Anglaise and others. And I suspect there will come a point in my future where I might get a few of these as well, because my life and writing interests are evolving as we speak, and the blog will naturally have to evolve with it.
• The Ones Who Just Are Just Plain Bitchy For the Sake of It: these are people who come out of nowhere, it seems, and drop a "bitchy bomb" in the middle of an otherwise normal stream of comments. Why? Who knows... bad hair day? Pissed off at the boss but need to vent it on someone else? Your guess is as good as mine.

I could spend time here naming names and linking to specific past and even recent comments to cite examples of which are which, but it won't change the fact that when you're a writer, you will always have critics, even when you didn't invite them and even when their criticism is largely personal or based on the critic's own personal agenda (or psychosis, as the case may be) rather than being about the quality of your writing.

I have been accused, unasked, by some of MY fiercest critics as not being able to handle an opposing opinion. Of being unwilling to argue. Of being closed off to discussion. And of course, when I try to say, "Oh, no, that's not true, you're misunderstanding my point", those same people argue with me further and make the same accusations over and over. If I don't argue, they say I don't like to invite argument; but if I DO argue or try to defend myself, then I'm "being defensive" and "can't handle it". Clearly, these are people with whom I'll never win; I'll never satisfy them -- because they are expecting me to be someone and something I'm not.

I have to say, these types of accusations have been difficult for me to digest mainly because throughout my entire life, I've had -- among the people who really know me -- a solid reputation as being very open minded, very liberal (and I don't mean politically) and tolerant and willing to at least hear all sides even if I don't agree.

When they're being hurled at my head, these accusations from the nastiest of my blog critics, it's nearly always over my OPINIONS I'm writing on my own PERSONAL BLOG. I'm not out there try to shove them down other people's throats, because a blog requires the reader to be proactive in seeking out the blog; I can't force my opinions on anyone with this medium. You, the reader, have to go out of your way to read my blog, and up until recently I've been operating on the assumption that people were reading it because they LIKED it. Imagine my dismay to discover there is this small, strange segment of my readership who hates what I'm about, what I stand for, how I write, and my very purpose in creating The Bold Soul, and yet... they come back over and over again just to tell me how horrible this blog is and how they hate it. Wassup with that?

I've said it before and I'll say it again: PERSONAL BLOG. Personal. Meaning it's about me and whatever I want it to be about. And shouldn't that be OK? Why this is somehow offensive to some people is beyond me. And here's the thing, something Georges reminded me about recently: this IS just a blog. It's something I created for my personal reasons, nothing more and nothing less. I have never promised it would be anything else, and I don't apologize for it being what it is. If someone has expected otherwise, then they created those expectations themselves because I have never said it would be different.

What I have realized is, you know these commentors who are the argumentative, nasty, rude, immature, vicious, angry, bitchy ones with a sense of entitlement? The problem is, they don't understand at all what the purpose of this blog is, and always has been. Instead, they have come here with their own unique expectations of what they're looking for in a blog, and when I don't deliver (because my blog isn't and never will be what they want) they decide to take it out on ME. And sometimes even on my other commentors. There is a big difference between THAT, and commentors who come here with a differing opinion and the ability to express it pleasantly and respectfully so that we can engage in a little bit of dialogue.

What we have here is a huge gap between what my intended purpose for this blog happens to be, and what a very small (thankfully) minority of readers EXPECT it to be. So let me help everyone, now and in the future, manage your expectations. Because I don't enjoy being attacked and I don't enjoy disappointing other people, even when it's not my fault.

Here's what the Bold Soul is all about: Me. My life. My love. My family. My friends. Paris. France. Living here. My transition from over 40 and single, to suddenly married and living in a foreign country with a wonderful man and his three kids. Travel to other places beyond France that interest me. Writing. Things that matter to me. Things that are important to me. Things I enjoy writing about. Things I feel positive about. Things I hope will be inspiring to someone else because they are inspiring to me. Things I believe strongly in. And sometimes, things that occasionally piss me off. I typically write about things in positive manner because that's how I choose to live my life; but I'm human, and sometimes I will vent. I may sometimes write from a spiritual perspective, one that may or may not jive with the beliefs of all my readers. Lately I've written about politics because for the first time ever, I'm excited about something political (but don't expect THAT to last forever as politics has never held my interest for long). If you're someone who needs a lift in your day; if you love Paris and France and like reading about the life of someone living here; if you like my general writing style "just because", then you'll probably be someone who would enjoy this blog. If not... please see next paragraph.

Here's what it isn't: It is not a political blog. It is not a blog about current events. I do not dissect the news of the day and then hyper-analyze them for my own amusement, even while I may periodically express an opinion on some current event or other. It is not a place for people to air their grievances about the world at large. It is not a place where I invite negativity just for the sake of it. Whiners and moaners need not apply. And lastly, this blog is NOT, and never will be, a topical discussion group or a forum where I post something and then everyone else is invited to join in, debate, argue and discuss with me and the other participants. A blog is NOT a discussion group in the technical sense of that term; discussion groups are a whole different technology altogether and they are suited to debate and argument. And before you jump down my throat saying "well then you shouldn't accept comments if don't want people to argue with you", my response is that sure, I leave comments open on my blog because it's nice to know other people are "out there" and I AM interested in hearing what other people have to say, even if they disagree with me -- as long as they aren't being rude about it. Rudeness has ZERO place here and it's one thing I'm very intolerant about. There is simply no excuse for any mature person to be rude to another human being, even when they disagree. So if you're someone who just loves to troll the blogosphere looking to vent your spleen on someone, thinking there will be no repercussions, you might as well leave right now because you're not welcome here. I have limits and boundaries, like anyone else. Being tolerant doesn't mean putting up with being needlessly provoked, attacked and shit upon. If that's what you're looking to do here, better move along right now.

And for the record: I do think it's possible for people to post a dissenting point of view here without it escalating into argument or debate. I LOVE it when that happens. Someone did that just yesterday and I thought she expressed herself and her concerns beautifully. Clearly, some people know how to state their point of view without regressing into attacks, spitefulness, or bitchiness; and some people don't.

I don't apologize for the fact that I do not like to argue. This does not make me defective; quite the opposite. Being an arguer doesn't necessarily make you a more evolved person, you know. I am not a competitive person; never have been. I don't have an overwhelming need to win at all costs or be right at someone else's expense. It's just not in my nature, which is why I am not on TV on one of those news debate programs. Some people get off on that sort of "entertainment" but I'm simply not one of them. So don't expect to get that here, if that's what you're seeking.

What I am learning, albeit the hard way, about being a writer in the public eye is that I can't please everyone. And sometimes, despite my own best efforts and intentions, not only will someone disagree with me but they will completely misunderstand me and will then not allow me to explain or defend myself against THEIR misunderstanding of who I am or what I believe. Here's an example:

Once, a long time ago now, I had one commentor who was really terrific. She made fascinating points, offered wonderful resources for my future life in France (I wasn't here yet) and she was a brilliant writer, too, with a blog of her own that I really enjoyed. I felt we were even developing a friendship because we had exchanged off-blog emails and had talked about meeting when I finally got to France. Then one day I used a phrase in one of my blog posts, where I said that I believed "there are no victims in life" -- a post that was not about being a victim at all but which was really about a very positive experience I had just had that week -- and she objected so strenuously to that ONE point (ignoring all the rest of the post) that she called me several names and raged at me for rather a long time in her comments. Somehow, despite my very positive intentions in writing that post, she completely misunderstood me, saw nothing but negativity in it, and nothing I could say would change her mind about who she NOW believed me to be. And I never heard from her again. I was the same person I'd been BEFORE that post, and still had all the same qualities she seemed to like, yet with just one phrase her opinion of me turned around 180 degrees and that was it.

Was I right and she wrong? No, not really. What we had here was a case of disappointed expectations. She expected that I would be the person she thought I would be; and when I didn't deliver on what she felt I "promised" (i.e., what she EXPECTED) then she turned it back on me. Meanwhile, all I was doing was writing about something that made me happy; I was never trying to change the world or get people to come around to my way of thinking. And yet, I was criticized for it.

This has happened since, in various forms. Often the posts where I get the most criticism are often the ones I think are the silliest, like the Turkish Toilet post. Sometimes, I can't help but laugh at such criticism because it seems so ridiculous; and sometimes I think it's really sad that some people are just looking for an argument where there shouldn't even be one. And all because someone like me just got up one day and decided to start a blog, for what she felt were All The Right Reasons.

Sigh.

I realize this has been a very, very long post. I realize there will be criticism about this one, too. People will (again) misunderstand me. People will jump down my throat, call me names and tell me I have no business being "out here" if I don't like criticism. Frankly, I'm a little sorry I felt the need to write it at all because I feel I should be able to write a personal blog with my own personal opinions without other people trying to tar and feather me for it -- I'm not trying to step on someone else's opinions, dreams or ideals... I'm merely expressing my own, with no other agenda than that. And I'm idealistic enough to believe that for the most part, people are and should be mature enough to disagree with me, when they DO disagree, without regressing into infantile behavior.

And yet, I know I am fighting a losing battle against the expectations of people I don't know (and who will often hide behind the convenient anonymity of the Internet while they take their cheap shots) and who don't really know ME even when they imagine they do. Maybe I have to change my own expectations as well, and not expect that all people who pass the the way of The Bold Soul will be able to be civilized, moderate, respectful and tolerant of those with whom they disagree. Even though MOST of you are exactly that way, thank you so very much.

Yet I'll never stop hoping for that kind of world. One where people are accepted and respected for who they are at the core, not for how they are judged by outward appearance, misinformation and erroneous expectations.

In the meantime, The Bold Soul goes on, in the way I always intended it: a mode of self-expression that I hope will be as uplifting for you all to read, as it is for me to write. Those that want to express a different opinion will ALWAYS be welcome... provided they can do it responsibly and with respect for me and my other readers. If they can't, then I can't promise they will continue to be welcome here. I've only blocked people from commenting twice in three and a half years (other than for obvious spamming attempts) and both times it was because the people in question just couldn't find a way to behave themselves. I'm sad to say that today was one of those two times, and I hope the person I blocked will not make an attempt to come back but will simply move on to read something more in keeping with his or her beliefs or interests. For my part, I don't intend to change who I am, or the heart of The Bold Soul. And no one should expect differently.

Thanks for "listening" and for your support, interest and patronage, and even your opposite points of view.

(b)Logging in 5 years

Typepad, the hosting company for The Bold Soul blog, is celebrating its 5 year anniversary, and I've been a customer for over 3 1/2 of those five years. To mark the occasion they asked clients to submit their stories about how blogging has impacted their life in some way.

My story was selected! If you're a regular reader you probably know the story already, but here it is in abbreviated form (I'm the last one on the page). I hope you enjoy reading some of the other featured bloggers' stories as well, and if you don't already write your own blog, maybe you should consider it. It's fun, it's creative, it can be totally anonymous, and therapeutic as well.

And you never know where it might lead you. I'm proof of that!

Drawing the line

Sometimes it's difficult to know where to draw the line.

The line between what I will or will not tolerate from people around me. The line between knowing when I'm over-reacting out of stress and when I have a legitimate issue to be dealt with. Even the line between what I should or should not write on this blog.

Let's take the last one first. When I was single, my boundaries with writing the blog were very broad. I wasn't about to go into intimate and sordid details about my sex life, but I had no problem referencing my sex life (or mainly my lack of sex life at that time). A few people (ok, my mom) were rather uncomfortable with those broad blogging boundaries but I was fine with it, and that's what mattered.

Being involved in an intimate relationship with a man who has children, and knowing that some of his family and friends are sometimes reading this blog, has changed my blogging boundaries significantly. Georges has always been a staunch advocate of my blog and he's my most devoted reader. Still, we discussed it and decided at the outset: no photos of his kids that show any part of their faces, and no details about them or their personal lives that they'd be unhappy about if they should read about it some day. I agreed that I would keep any references to the kids very generalized or limit it to discussing my perspective about them, but otherwise I wanted to keep the kids out of it since this isn't a step-mommy blog.

There's another way I've been self-censoring my blogging as well, though. I realized the other day that I do tend to focus on the happier aspects of my life in Paris, and that's by deliberate design, because I don't like to focus on the negatives of life too much. That's just a bad habit to get into, and life is sometimes challenging enough without getting stuck in a pattern of whining. Yet I also feel that I sometimes now self-censor my writing because at times I'm not sure where to draw the line with revealing too much about my new relationship and family situation, and the inevitable challenges that come along with it. So I don't always tell the whole story, deciding to err on the side of caution.

It's a dilemma, because this blog is partly therapeutic for me, a way to explore whatever is happening in my life. And not being able to be completely candid in my writing is sometimes a bit of a problem for me, and I sometimes miss being able to just lay it all on the line.

Like saying, for example, that last night I had a complete and total meltdown because of a comment made to me by one of the older kids. It doesn't matter what was said, but it's how it FELT to me that was the issue. I felt misunderstood. Unappreciated for my efforts to make our house into a warmer and more inviting home. Criticized for being different. The outsider. And all this at the end of a very long few days in which I had a migraine, made two mad dashes to Ikea, and am on the verge of having to meet and entertain scores of friends, family and complete strangers, all in FRENCH.

To say that the meltdown was a long time in coming is probably an understatement.

In general I get along very well with my step-kids. Better than average, probably, for someone in my situation. The youngest one is probably the easiest right now; show him the love and attention he needs and deserves, and life goes pretty smoothly. The teenagers are sometimes a whole different story. We are adapting to one another, and they are really great kids whom I care about very much, but sometimes I feel like I'm the one doing all the adapting while they look at me like I'm a curiosity from another planet. And being teenagers, they also have that universal teen thing about thinking they know everything and we, the adults, are just doddering idiots who don't get it (they do the same stuff with their father).

So maybe I am sometimes being a little hypersensitive. Maybe sometimes I am trying too hard, and I should stop trying and just be myself -- which might include taking off my "nice" face and just saying what I really think. I have a feeling that moment is not long into the future.

It's just hard to know where to draw that line.

(Un)Productive

Ever have a day when you start out having every good intention of being productive, and then nothing works out quite the way you'd planned?

Yep, it's been one of THOSE days.

It started out well enough. I even had a plan for what I wanted to accomplish and when. I got up when Georges left for work, so I wouldn't sleep the morning away (like I did the day before following an insomnia night). Did the usual morning routine: breakfast and coffee, checking e-mail, shower and self-care stuff, and got dressed in case the neighbor popped by to collect her pet fish we've been taking care of for some weeks (it doesn't do to be caught in one's PJ's and "tête de lit" in front of one's neighbors). So far, so good, I thought.

After that, it's been one step forward and two steps back all day long. I spent some time doing name-change paperwork starting with my American Social Security Card, only to discover that as New Jersey does not put your desired married name on your actual marriage certificate, and as the SSA does not accept photocopies of ANY of your identity information (and there is no way I would mail them my driver's license and passport!), I would have to phone them for further instructions. And due to the time difference, it was too early. So, I put THAT on hold until later in the day.

Next, I headed out to catch the Montmartrebus, the little electric bus that crawls up and down the steep, narrow, winding, cobbled streets of the Butte de Montmartre. Destination: a small shop on Rue Lamarck, in the shadow of Sacre Coeur, where I wanted to pick up a catalog delivery... a new slipcover and throw pillows for our still functional but horribly dirty well-used red sofa. (Yes, I have discovered the joys of catalog shopping comme une vrai française at 3 Suisses and La Redoute.) I arrived there, no problem... but apparently my delivery had NOT. So I'll have to try again tomorrow, and naturally the snotty guy working there didn't want to provide a phone number so I could call first to save myself another fruitless trip.

To ease my disappointment a bit -- I was SO looking forward to a little redecorating this morning -- I walked down the street to spend a few minutes admiring the view of Paris that was laid out at my feet, with the beautiful white domed church behind me. OK, so the morning had been unproductive, but LOOK WHERE I LIVE NOW, I reminded myself. It's funny how often I can use that psychology of "But you live in PARIS, so quit your bitching!" any and every time I'm having a little bit of an off day -- and it works every single time, too.

I decided to walk home and head to the Monoprix to do the food shopping, figuring I could get in a really nice walk while simultaneously taking care of a necessary errand or two. En route, I was scouting for a new dry cleaning place since the one we had been using has been doing a very lax job lately, but I came up empty once again (I've been looking for weeks and nothing has looked viable anywhere near our home). Sigh. As I was walking, I remembered I had brought along my voter registration form to be mailed to the States, so I took a small detour to La Poste... which was CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS. They very thoughtfully posted a map of the nearest other post offices -- the closest was in the neighborhood I had JUST PASSED THROUGH ON THE BUS, way up the hill! OK, let's leave THAT errand for tomorrow, too.

On the way home with my heavy grocery caddy (as usual I bought more than was on my list), the Universe decided to throw me a bone. I spotted not one but TWO other dry cleaning places I had never noticed before, and both look at least worth a try.

Back at the house, after lunch, I decided to tackle that pesky Social Security name change issue, and phoned their offices in the States. My wait time was not too bad... that is, after calling back twice becasue they kept trying to route me back into the automated system and I had a specialized question that required an actual HUMAN BEING on the other end of the phone. Finally I got an agent on the line, who informed me that yes the instructions were correct and no, they would NOT accept photocopied documents. When I explained that I was living in Paris now and was not in a position to go to a Social Security office nor to mail my originals of my passport and drivers' license, she said I needed to go to the local US Consulate. Oh? That was a new one... I didn't realize the Consulate provided Social Security services to Americans abroad. She put me on hold while she double-checked her information, and while I was waiting I did a quick review of the Consulate's web site and damn if she wasn't right! Chalk one up for this one Federal employee who really knows her stuff!

I thought, wow, this is great, because I have to go to the Consulate again anyway to renew my passport and do the name change on it, as well, and I could just go and do it all at once, right? Uh... wrong. Another review of the web site revealed that I must renew the passport by mail, but go in person for the Social Security business.

Sigh.

Now it is 4pm. Not only have I NOT made the house more beautiful with the new slipcover and pillows, but I have NOT gone to the post office, NOT done the ironing or made the bed (oh, and NOT written and mailed the thank you notes from the wedding, which my mother is constantly on my case about), and worst of all I have NOT done any of the writing work, as yet, that I had intended to do today. My brain is already tired and I haven't accomplished much at all. And this, after Georges and I had a long discussion last night about my need to settle into some kind of a real routine with my writing, something I have long struggled with anyway, even before I met Georges and my life turned upside down (in a good way, of course).

This is not the way today was supposed to look. Not at all. But, in the words of one of my favorite characters from literature and film -- Scarlett O'Hara -- "After all, tomorrow is another day".

And now I will go and try to shake off this headache that has started creeping up the back of my neck, and settle down to work for the next three hours until Georges gets home. I'd like to salvage SOMETHING of my good intentions, if nothing else.

Why didn't anyone TELL me?

That's how I felt about 5 minutes ago when, while checking the sites that link to my blog, that I am apparently #42 on a list of Top 50 Blogs, on BestBlogList.com. Hey, thanks, you guys!

BestBlogList is affiliated with the Bloggy Awards. It was nice to read about their selection criteria and discover it's based not on popularity (although Huffington Post was included and that's a widely read blog which I never read), but on visual aesthetics, user friendliness, reading enjoyment, useful info, and overall experience. They write: "We judge overall experience by how enjoyable, interesting, and read-worthy we think a blog is. And we list blogs with great content, design, usability and interesting info that we think are deserving of being bookmarked and oft revisited."

Of course, they also review sites daily and monthly, so how long I'll be in the Top 50 remains to be seen.

Still, a girl can't help but be a bit flattered. Merci mille fois, Bloggy reviewers!

Swatches

You might have noticed a few changes around here today. With all the changes taking place in my life, I felt the need to do some spring cleaning of my blog design and give it a fresh coat of paint, so to speak. You know... new life, new look. This year it's all about change for me. I'm making a few adjustments in my business as well and that web site will also be updated accordingly in the next few weeks*.

The new color scheme was mostly inspired by a piece of pottery I bought in the Luberon this time last year when I was spending my birthday weekend with my friend Linda and her husband. It's a water pitcher with poppies painted on it as well as hues of green and goldenrod, and it reminded me of the fields of poppies I saw there.

When choosing color swatches, sometimes you just can't beat Mother Nature for inspiration.

I did have one other source of inspiration though. The shades of green are the color of what I hope will be my wedding dress.

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*Once I get an idea in my head, I just run with it. My writing web site has now been completely redesigned, and now that site and this blog are more color-coordinated.

If you need me, I'll be in my OTHER office

Today being a Wednesday, which means no school for our Little Guy and the neighbor's 5-year-old and 1-year-old, and knowing they would be at home with the nanny a good part of the day since it will probably (finally!) rain later, I decided to beat a hasty retreat in order to hopefully get some much-needed work done.

It's a bit of a hike across town for me to come to my "other office", but I love being at my friend Aimee's tea shop, L'Oisive Thé, on rue de la Butte aux Cailles in the 13th. I come early, during the pre-lunch hour, to have a few minutes to chat with my friend while she and her serveuse are doing the daily preparation for lunch and afternoon tea. Coming early means I score a small table in the corner near a window. Good light, a lovely cool breeze, and plenty of room to work (and to drink tea and have some delicious food as well!)

I've visited a few times since the grand opening at the beginning of April: once Georges and I brought the Little Guy here for Sunday brunch, and then a couple of weeks ago I came by with my computer but had problems with my power adaptor and didn't have enough battery life to work, so I had lunch and tea and then had to leave. I've loved watching the little changes Aimee has made to her shop, making it even more charming than it originally was, with her personal little touches like hand-sewn tablecloths, lots of green plants and flowers, and books and magazines to read as well as teas to buy and drink!

Today, though, I'm planning to hang out for a long time, and I've come prepared to work. I desperately need to get some work done. My guilt is palpable, the guilt of knowing clients are waiting for me to deliver things but that I'm having trouble getting myself in gear to do any actual work. As you can see, my writer's block is somewhat selective; writing my own thoughts on my blog is a breeze. It's writing OTHER people's thoughts that requires so much more of my concentration. But then, that's why they pay me the "big (ha) bucks".

I wonder if I'd be this distracted if I wasn't planning a wedding?

Last night I "confessed" (voluntarily) to Georges that lately, when I am claiming I am working, I'm usually not. He being an excellent procrastinator himself (at times), he knows how easy it is to be lured away from the things we need to do by those other things we prefer to do. And since we've met, he's often had the same problems I've had, forcing myself to work when I'd rather just be in our little bubble o' love. We'd rather keep having fun and not have to deal with work. But we're grown-ups, we two, and we have grown-up responsibilities.

So today, I've got a chapter to research and write for one client, and if I get that done and done well, then I move onto editing a first draft manuscript for a second client. Then there's a third client who is waiting on a book proposal. And after that I'm sure there are other things I've promised someone, somewhere.

And now, I work. If you're in the neighborhood today, drop by and say Bonjour and have some of Aimee's homemade cookies or delicious salads, and cup of tea -- of course!

Inventing new excuses for not working

My telephone is here. My computers are here -- both of them. We have moved some furniture around to create a room, with a door that closes, which is now my office. I haven't moved all my things in yet, but I have enough things here that I can get by. I have no more reasons to sleep at my apartment now; the apartment is now just a storage locker.

I think it's official. Georges and I are living ensemble.

Yesterday was Day 1. Usually on a Monday morning, I get up when he does, and we take the train to Odéon together, grab some coffee and apple strudel from this little hole-in-the-wall cafe we know, and then he goes to his office while I head "home" to my apartment. Only this Monday, I already AM "home". So after kissing him goodbye, I rolled over and went back to sleep, thinking I had the house all to myself.

Until about 9:40 am when I heard someone in the house. I knew who it was, of course; the nanny and the neighbors' two little ones. Georges' youngest shares the nanny with these other kids, but he's on holidays this week. However Georges' house ends up being the day-care center most days; the neighbors are photographers and work in their house, and that's not easy with les petits garçons underfoot.

I had planned to just relax and adjust to my new environment quietly, but that clearly wasn't going to be easy with the kids around, so I decided it would be as good a time as any to make a major dent in the packing back at my apartment. It went well and there is now a pile of boxes in the middle of the living room floor. I took the bus home -- to my new home. Checked email. Caught up on blog-reading. Chatted with my mom on the phone. Georges came home from work. We set up my office space so that I can work with some privacy even when there are others in the house. I blogged a bit myself. And that was my first day. All in all, very nice. But I didn't get any work done.

Today -- Day 2 -- I had intentions of working. Knowing the nanny might be coming by with the little ones again (starting tomorrow they are en vacances, too) I got up earlier, got dressed and had breakfast. Once they arrived, I decided to go to the supermarket. I've been there twice before with Georges and thought I knew the way -- but wouldn't you know it, I actually got a little LOST (and I never get lost). In the rain, no less. Eventually I found the store, and found my way around the store, and furthermore found everything on the list except one thing... plastic liner bags for the cat's litter box. Oh well, nobody's perfect. I managed to find my way home without getting lost again. By the time I put everything away, it was lunch time. I ate, and then retreated to the (relative) quiet of my new office, ready to write.

Where I quickly discovered that, even with a dedicated work space -- the first one I've had in over a year -- I find it just as hard to settle down and work when I need to. I used to blame my procrastination on the fact that I had to work in the living room, with the TV and DVD player just in front of me, tempting me to just take "a few minutes" to watch something. Now, I'm in a room with no such distractions, and yet I managed to be distracted anyway. I could hear all the kids playing elsewhere in the house (it's an open loft-style plan) but that wasn't really the problem, because the mental chatter in my own head is often far louder than the sound of three pre-schoolers and a baby.

Clearly, I am going to need to work on my self-discipline and learning to work despite distractions. In the corporate world where I worked as a programmer and systems analyst, I used to work in a cubicle with no full walls or door, in the middle of a room full of ringing telephones and other people who were sometimes very loud. And I was totally productive. I kicked ass in the productivity department in that job, if I may modestly say so. Nothing ever distracted me... well other than that one time one of the directors (a big kid at heart) was wandering the hallways with a Super-Soaker and I suddenly noticed it was raining in my cubicle.

What is it about writing that brings out the procrastinator in me?

J'ai trois ans!

Oh, mon Dieu! I nearly forgot --

The Bold Soul is THREE YEARS OLD TODAY!

It is hard to believe but it's true... I started this blog on February 25, 2005. My stated goal, in that first post, was that I wanted to be a writer, and to be a writer in Paris. I was shocked to get two comments on that first post, one from a dear friend but one from a total stranger; I still have no idea how someone discovered my blog so quickly.

In those days, I thought I would write about what it was like to be over 40 and single in Paris. I never thought beyond the "being single" part, and therefore it was never in my "plan" to meet and fall in love with a Frenchman. It just shows you that sometimes, the Powers That Be in the Universe know what we need, better than we know for ourselves.

And so, here I am, three very happy years later. In Paris. A Writer. And sitting next to the One I waited for my entire life, who just happened to turn out to be in the one place I always wanted to live.

Thanks for reading, commenting, encouraging, telling your friends, and coming back again and again. I can't wait to see what Year Four of this blog will bring... I have some pretty good ideas, of course, but I guess we'll all have to stick around and find out, together.

Un mille

THIS is my ONE THOUSANDTH BLOG POST!

Oh! My! God!

1,000 blog posts? Really? That is amazing to me. Doesn't seem possible. That's alotta bloggin'.

In just 10 days, The Bold Soul will also celebrate it's 3rd birthday and will kick off Year 4, so with 1,000 posts under my belt (whips out calculator to do the math) this means an average of:

• 333.3 posts per year
• 27.8 posts per month
• 6.4 posts per week

Not to mention the 2,238 comments received over the three years. Very cool -- thank you!

And since we're talking numbers, I want to wish my "baby sister", Susan, a very happy 45th birthday today. However, I will have to phone her to do so -- because she doesn't read my blog! Oh well, I love her anyway.

The pause that refreshes

No, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth, and nothing is wrong. (Being a bit of a bavard, people are always thinking there is something wrong whenever I am just in a quiet mood!) I've just been too busy LIVING my life to BLOG about my life (for a change). But all is most definitely well. Even the weather has gotten a bit better and I hope it stays that way for the next two days while I'm off for my romantic rendez-vous with Georges. Normal blogging service shall resume shortly.

Bon week-end, tout le monde!

Oops, almost forgot

If you would prefer to receive The Bold Soul via your email instead of via RSS feed or by having to remember to come here and check the blog every day, now you can! Just provide your email address using the little form in the left sidebar to join my mailing list. Starting the next day, you'll receive an email each day I post something new to the blog, courtesy of Feedblitz which manages this service.

For those who are vision-challenged, Feedblitz provides an AUDIO version of each and every post in the email as well (this is not the same as a podcast) and it's funny to hear the text of my posts being "read aloud" by whatever computer-generated voice system is being used. The reading is a bit mechanical in tone but it works, and I think it's a great feature.

FYI, I never give or sell my mailing lists to others - EVER - so you can feel secure in signing up.

Misspent Youth

It has been far too long since I participated in a Sunday Scribblings prompt, but this week's topic seemed to spark some inspiration.

As a young child, I was a "dream kid" for my parents... easy and cooperative most of the time, and the kind of little girl other parents loved, too, because not only was I a "nice girl" (which is what little girls in the 1960s were raised to be) but I was a child who would talk to adults and was comfortable doing so.

Entering the teen years, I'd say I was pretty typical. I did my fair share of rebelling against my mother's need to try and control me (as I saw it, anyway), cut school sometimes and did a little under-age drinking. Oddly enough, I don't consider any of that time as "misspent", and while I wouldn't brag about those escapades to my nieces and nephews, I have many fond memories of those teen years -- even the things that probably drove my poor mother to distraction and made her wonder if I would EVER "grow up" and make something of myself.

There is one way, however, I believe that I misspent my time growing up; one area where I look back with some dissatisfaction on my choices as a younger person. And that is how much energy I wasted in NOT realizing just how amazing a person I really was. And how much focus I put on the good opinion of others, and on feeling bad about ME when I didn't get that good opinion. Where I misspent my youth most was in believing I was never good enough. At anything. For anyone.

I know everyone feels this way from time to time, and it's normal. And in my case, I often did a great job of masking my deeper insecurities. Nonetheless, they existed, and as a result I walked around with a constantly nagging need to find ways to feel acceptable, even preferred, to other people. I suppose I could have resorted to really self-destructive behaviors to get these needs met, but at least I found what proved to be healthier outlets for my gut-wrenching lack of self-esteem.

I desperately wanted people to like and approve of me. I wanted applause. So I joined all the performing arts activities the school provided: plays, school bands, choir, everything. I wanted to be praised for something, and music seemed to be one thing I could do well enough to earn some kudos. This despite being virtually self-taught at relearning the piano (I had had some lessons as a child but had not touched a piano in something like 5-6 years when I joined the jazz band) and being completely self-taught at playing the xylophone (if you want to stand out in a school band, play an instrument NO ONE else can play, and play it well enough to get an entire solo in the spring concert!)

I wanted to have lots of friends, to feel just a little bit popular. In hanging around the the musical/artsy crowd, I found a group of kindred spirits and a social life. I got invited to parties. I hosted parties where everyone wanted to come. I was "in", at least within my own chosen group.

I wanted to have a boyfriend. Within the band kids, there were lots of really nice boys, boys with whom I developed friendships, and occasionally a bit more. As kids often do at that age, your affections could switch loyalties rather quickly, and when boys I liked chose other girls, I was devastated. But I always tried to act like it didn't bother me. Consequently I came away from high school feeling like I would perpetually be the kind of girl that boys would always want to be friends with (nice) but who would probably never want to go out with (oh, so sad). That feeling carried with me all the way into adulthood, and even when therapy and self-help books made me see how silly this was, the feeling continued to haunt me on occasions even until... well, recently, when I fell in love with a man who definitely wants to be much more than just my "friend", and who gives me the message every single day that I am perfect just the way I am and I need not change a thing.

I remember in the movie "The Holiday" where Kate Winslet's character is talking to this older gentleman, Arthur, about her sad love life. Arthur says: "There are two kinds of women in the movies: the leading lady, and the best friend. You're acting like the best friend." And Kate says, "You're right! You're supposed to be the leading lady in your own life!" I spent my youth believing I was never meant to the the leading lady in anything, but only a supporting character. What a waste!

So looking back, where I regret having misspent my youth was the time I spent on feeling badly about myself at all. I wish that all teenagers had a way of understanding that there is a huge world out there to be experienced and conquered, and everyone is going to be good at something. Everyone will eventually find out what they are good at. They will find out what their best personal attributes are and they will sometimes even feel beautiful or handsome, even if THEIR photos are not those being posted on billboards and on the covers of magazines as the standard of what is considered attractive by our culture.

And the biggest way we short-change ourselves is in wasting time feeling "less than" anyone, for any reason. We are all magnificent, each in his or her own way. To believe any less of yourself -- whether you are young, or not so young -- is the only real "sin", to my way of thinking.

So, while I will entertain myself at odd moments with cheerful memories of my crazy youth -- such as the time I went to a school dance with some friends, drank too much blackberry brandy (I can't even stand the smell of that stuff now), came home drunk with my 15-year old sister, who fell coming in the front door, and got read the riot act by our understandably FURIOUS mother at 1 o'clock in the morning, to which I slurred the following response: "Mom, I am in no condition to appreciate this right now. Can't you wait until the morning and yell at me then?" -- and will have no regrets about those memories (after all, I survived them and no real harm done), I will sometimes wistfully wish I had known better back then.

Known what a truly incredible human being I already was and would turn out to be. Known that my life would be something I would be proud of, despite having made many mistakes along the way. Known that, although perhaps later than I thought, I would find a sense of self, plus adventure and love, and that I would become what and who I always wanted to be.

My only regret is not being able to go back in time and tell the younger Me to stop being so hard on herself and to stop caring so much what everyone else thought of her. I finally got that message. It just took me way too long.

Six figures

This blog just hit 100,000 visitors.

Excuse me while I scream "Holy Shit!" and do a little happy dance around my apartment. ... ... ... OK. I'm fine now. I'm calm.

This completely floors me, the notion that 100,000 people actually took time out of their own busy, hectic, crazy lives during the past 2 1/2 years, to read something I wrote. Some came by accident, of course, perhaps misdirected by a wayward Google search, and I'm sure many of those people took one look, and went away never to return because The Bold Soul wasn't what they were really looking for. And that's fine. Maybe a few of those hung around anyway, though. Others came by referral from other blogs or sites -- I'm very grateful for those links, those of you who've provided them. And some of you, once you got here, however you got here, simply decided to come back and visit again and again. Thank you for doing that.

A personal blog isn't something you ever think will necessarily interest another living soul (bold or otherwise), except for a few people close to you. I started this thing in February 2005, after some initial resistance, because I thought "who would want to read about my single life and my dream of moving to Paris?" which at that time was still a long ways off. But I decided to just do it anyway, because it seemed fun, harmless and a good way to get into more creative writing for myself. And so I began. After I moved here last year, visitor traffic seemed to grow quite quickly, and it has more than tripled in the past year. And here I thought blogging would just be a convenient way for friends and family to know what I'm up to over here, so far away.

But now... 100,000 visitors total, and now tracking nearly 10,000 a month (last month it was 9,996, another "record"), and still climbing. I had no idea. FYI, the 100,000th visitor was from Berkeley, California -- hello, Berkeley!

I just wanted to take a moment to say: Thank you. Merci mille fois. I am gratified and humbled by your interest in what I am doing here. I wish I could send you all a puppy with a red ribbon around its neck as a thank you gift.