This morning I woke up at 6:20-ish, walked the dog, fed the dog, put a load of laundry in the dryer, emptied the sink of dishes, ran the dishwasher, folded clothing and took a bag of trash out.

It sounds like a lot when I write it, but that is pretty much my usual and maybe similar to yours, too.

Then, as I grabbed a breath, I looked outside. I saw the beautiful lake and the mango tree in full season. I saw the shining reflection of the sun coming from the east. Everything looked clean and new and pure after the rains of yesterday.

I’m not sure what gripped me, but instead of continuing with my never-ending lists of domestic to-dos before waking my kids at 7:30, I decided to grab a bottle of bubbles and take it out into the backyard.

I sat on a patio chair and ripped open the package of bubbles.

And then, I blew bubbles.

Big and small, mostly small.

My dog was looking at me in shock. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she loved it.

It didn’t last long, but I made my point. It was OK to stop and take time to, well, blow some bubbles.

For a moment, with the morning sun by my side and my sweet dog by my other, it was just me and the bubbles and the promise of a day filled with whatever I wanted it to be filled with.  For a moment, I was light and fun and someone a little bit different.

After I felt sufficiently blown out, I got right back up and went to pick up the mangoes that had fallen to the ground overnight.

I had work to do.

Life is short, so go blow some bubbles for heaven’s sake. For your sake.

Sometimes that is all you can do.

Because you have tried everything else.

The tricks. The tips. The advice. The expertise. The expert. The system. That person who knows. The solution. The answer.

Even the magic pill.

You tried it all.

And it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

You had faith each time. You thought, This is it. This is the thing that will work. This time it is different.

This relationship is different.

This conversation is different.

This job is different. This client is different.

This diet is different.

This project is different.

This schedule is different.

This approach is different.

But it isn’t different. It wasn’t different. Damnit, it’s all still the same. You are still the same. 

What, now?

Go ahead and cry.

That’s all you can do.

It’s free. And freeing.

It makes you stronger. Not weaker. Stronger.

So let it all out. C’mon, let that shit out.

Go ahead, get down and dirty. Sniffly and snotty. The more the better.

Have a good cry for me. For you.

Then, get up and try it again.

Today you woke up and you started all over again.

No matter what happened yesterday.

Or didn’t happen yesterday.

Or who was not nice to you, or what didn’t get done, or how behind you were. Who hurt you or how awesome you were.

It isn’t yesterday. It won’t ever be yesterday again.

Yesterday may have sucked. Or maybe it was grand.

Either way, today is new. Again. But only for today.

I don’t know what will happen today. It may be one of those great days. It may not be. Either way, by tomorrow it will be yesterday.

Today is either incredibly important or it doesn’t matter at all. I don’t know. No one does. Not even those positive-affirmation-always-having-the-best-day-ever people who seem to be online all the time. They don’t know either. Don’t look to them to shape your today. They aren’t you. They don’t have your today. They know nothing about your today.

Today is all there is. Does that mean you give everything you you have, right now, to today?

I don’t know the answer. And even if I thought I did (which I once thought I did but not longer thing I do), that isn’t for me to tell you.

It’s your today. Not mine. Not theirs. Only you. Yours.

Then, tomorrow, today will be all there is for you. Again.

And again.

I get you.

I know more about you than you think.

I know about some of your relationships. I know about your stories. Your excuses. Your “never agains”  Your “what ifs” and your “maybe just one more times.” I know what it is like to wonder “Is it me?” or “Why do I keep making the same mistake?” I know what you worry about. I know why you are frustrated. I get what not knowing how much more you can take feels like. I know that sometimes you feel you just can’t go on.

I believe you mean it when you say you are only giving one last chance to that person or that relationship. I understand why one last chance is never really the last chance. I know how you blame yourself that it isn’t working.  I feel your pain, understand your regret, can relate to your questioning. 

Guess what? You are not the only one.

You are not the only one who

feels alone

gives too much

is way too nice

keeps getting fucked over in the same relationship

gets hurt easily

expects love, even when it is nowhere to be found

keeps giving, even when no one else is

feels sad about what might have been

dares to feel hope about what might be

questions WHY

questions WHY a lot

also wants to know WHY NOT

remembers how hurtful, how hateful, how horrible they were, or it was

thinks this time will be different

wonders why nothing has changed

can’t fix what’s broken

wants a magic pill to fix it all

can’t find the light at the end of the tunnel

still has faith that that light is there.

You are not alone.

I get you.

A guest post by Erica Kaplan, aka my sister.

A few days ago my 5-year-old daughter Lily asked me why we still had our “Happy Halloween” banner hung in the corner of our kitchen.

She’s right to ask, it’s strange that we still have it up from last October’s pre-Halloween get together. Every year we have people over with all of their kids, wearing their crazy costumes, and we have pizza and apple juice (and wine and beer for the grown-ups) and quick, chaotic photo sessions before we all trek outside to trick-or-treat.

I explained to Lily that since we have the party every year before trick-or-treating, I thought it would be funny to keep that one sign up for the whole year—this is one of many indoor Halloween decorations we have hung up all around our house for the whole month until the big day. She then asked me why we have the party every year, she wanted to know why we have all of these people over for Halloween. I told her it’s a tradition.

“What’s a tradition?” she asked.

“It’s something people do every year or every day or every week, the same way every time.”

She thought for a minute and then said, “Like when you bend down to me every day at school drop off and tell me you’ll see me at 12:30 and then we kiss?”

She got it.

All this talk about family traditions got me thinking about my own family traditions growing up with my parents and sister. We didn’t really have any. Not to say we didn’t host parties or go to functions on a holiday, but there wasn’t any one thing that happened every year, on the same day, that we “did.”  

As Mother’s Day approaches, I always have conflicting emotions. Bittersweet. Wistful. We lost our mom, also named Lily, 14 years ago, and while Mother’s Day was never a huge deal as a kid, I’m always thinking about my mom the whole day. The day itself is always just about 10 days to two weeks after the anniversary of my Mom’s death.

And since I’ve become a mom to two beautiful kids, I think about her even more: What kind of memories did she want to create for us?  Was she content with the childhood she gave to us?  What kept her from creating traditions for us? Did she want to make family traditions in our house?  

I know my mom tried her hardest, and did the best she could do. And I like to think that if she were still here, she would have been a big part of her kids’ family traditions.

Now that I’m a mom (and I call the shots), I want my kids to grow up in a warm, fuzzy house, complete with memories and laughter (and some yelling and back-talk, of course). I want them to remember me, their mom, as a woman who showed them fun times, encouraged them to be whomever they want to be, and yes, the crazy mom who kept the Happy Halloween sign up all year.

Traditions help all of us feel secure, they give us something to grasp, they’re the thing we do every time. Best of all, traditions are easy to begin and to keep up over time. So whether you have kids or not, make your own tradition—whether it’s a brunch with your family or a night out at a bar with your friends or a showing of a TV premiere at your house. You’ll create memories that will last forever…and your loved ones won’t ever forget.

I’d love to hear about YOUR traditions below. And…Happy Mother’s Day!  

About Erica:
Erica Kaplan is Lily and Evan’s mom. She is also a wife, Real Housewife addict and….Allison’s sister!

This is for those of you who think you are not brave.

You know what?  You are the bravest there is.

Yes, YOU.

You who are…

…doing it all yourself

…terrified whether you will pay all the bills this month

…ready to walk away from “so so” to find your “fucking awesome”

…questioning whether you should have done it

…doing it the “right way” when everyone else seems to be taking short cuts

…thinking you may never do it

…feeling more alone than ever

…asking if this is all really worth it

…wondering why you always seem to get stomped on

…shaking your head because you are too damn nice…every time

…asking if you are the only one who seems to make the same mistake over and over

…soldiering on despite the terror you feel

…healing from pain, from abuse, from trauma

…lost

…unsure

…wondering, wondering

…doubtful

…dejected

…still feeling intense pain no matter what you do to alleviate it

…leaving even though it is comfortable

…staying because you are so scared to leave

…leaving because you know this isn’t “IT” for you

…staying because “IT” still scares you so damn much

…pushing through the pain

…stronger than the pain, even and especially when you don’t feel like it

…smiling despite it all

…smiling because of it all

Yes, YOU.

You are so brave. 

You are not alone.

I salute you.

This post was inspired by my dear friend Lee.

Today, what if, when someone asked “How are you,?” you actually gave a real answer?

What if, instead of chirping a happy answer like “Great!” or “Awesome, how about you?” you were a little more honest than that?

“I’m having trouble paying my bills.”

“My kids are on my last nerve.”

“My relationship is feeling a little boring.”

“I’m still trying to figure out what my true purpose in life is.”

“I spend too much time on Facebook.”

“I’m worried I’m in way over my head in this thing.”

I’m not suggesting that you aren’t feeling great or awesome….you may very well be. What I am suggesting is that if you want your conversations to be anything resembling real, you are going to need to pony up on the vulnerable side.

That is because real conversations – like any real connections — start there, and only there, in that very real place.

They don’t start with an answer programmed into you a long time ago and from which you are afraid to stray.

They don’t start with pretending.

And sorry, but they don’t start with a bullshit story either.

The more I am honest about a bad day, a challenging situation, an unfair person – the more I connect on a very real level with people. And once you experience those kind of connections, the other ones (you know…the “Hi, how are you? “I’m great, how about you?”) will seem both tedious and utterly extraneous.

Did you know that those kind of exchanges take away energy from things that might actually have real meaning for you? They are fillers. Like popcorn packing in a box of valuables. They keep the important stuff from breathing, from having their own space.

What I have realized about myself is that I cannot do the fakeness or the surface stuff.

That isn’t me. In fact, it takes away from me.

And, I bet it isn’t you either.

The answer is always simpler than you thought it would be.

That in and of itself may seem a bit complicated, as our maneuvering, our questioning, our ruminating, our never-ending mental ping pong always tells us it must be really, really complicated.

But it isn’t.

It is simple.

And, yet, our egos and their henchmen seek out the complicated.

But, well, no.

The answer, the meaning you seek? It is already there. You don’t need to go nuts looking for it. Don’t devote all of your mental energy to imagining all of the various and complicated ways things can happen. That old mountain out of a molehill saying? I bet you are doing it. I know I am.

Stop. Know it is there. Listen more. Push less. Wait for it. It will rise above the noise, but only if you let it.

Yea, this requires trust. Maybe a weird kind of trust  you feel, well, weird about. Trust in yourself. In the unseen. Faith. In something bigger, no matter what it is. It requires an openness and a willingness. It can’t be your way or the high way. Can you accept that?

Sometimes the thing we thought we wanted isn’t actually the thing we wanted (or needed). Sometimes the thing we wanted comes in on a horse and we wee expecting a car. Or it is on foot and we are looking only in the air. You feel me here? When you think about it, “it” hardly ever looks like you thought “it” would look lit.

So….stop complicating everything. Take a step back. Stop pushing. Open up instead. Abandon the thought that you personally have to do everything and then some. You don’t and quite frankly, you can’t. Take a mental broom and sweep all of the crap that’s been fogging you up and bogging you down once and for all.

And then…what do you have to do? Know it will be OK.  Know you will be OK. Know you already are.

Per Wikipedia, safety is the state of being “safe,” the condition of being protected against physical, social, spiritual, financial, political, emotional, occupational, psychological, educational or other types or consequences of failure, damage, error, accidents, harm or any other event which could be considered non-desirable.

Those are a lot of potentially non-safe things. No wonder people are so stressed and worried all the time. No wonder stress is a leading cause of all sorts of health issues.

Truth is, we are never safe. Danger is all around. In many forms. Lurking. Waiting. Random. Unemotional.

Think of all the safety-related sayings we hear from a young age one:

Better safe than sorry!

Be safe!

Practice safety!

Don’t forget to practice safe sex!

Don’t learn about safety by accident.

Practice the ABCs of Safety: Always Be Careful

We are never safe, yet we are always safe.

It’s no wonder fear thrives, it has lots of potential “What Ifs” on its side.

What does safety have on its side? A bunch of cheesy slogans and some hope, I suppose.

And yet….we do choose to believe in safety. We do allow ourselves to feel safe. Even in the face of doubt or fear. Even when circumstances may suggest otherwise. Even when it’s clear we aren’t all that safe. Even when it doesn’t feel right.

We trust that, yes, our hearts will be safe. Our bodies will be safe. Our children will be safe. Our dreams will be safe. Our homes will be safe. Our lives will be safe.

That we will be safe.

Despite, because of, instead of, as opposed to….we are safe.  Even when we are not.

My name is Allison and I am addicted to buying domain names.

I am in recovery.

I’m making progress.

I’m getting better.

But like any addiction, it is a lifelong thing.

At my highest point, I had around 100-110 domain names. For those of you who are hardcore, this is nothing. For the rest of you normal people, this is simply ridiculous.

At an average of $10 to renew each and every year, we are talking an average of $1,000 per year, every year, for years.

What for?

Well….

Ideas.

Hopes.

Flashes of inspiration.

Or nonsense.

Taking domain names off auto-renew  requires being honest. With myself.

Admitting that the brilliant idea I had…

1) wasn’t actually brilliant and/or

2) wasn’t ever actually ever going to happen and/or

3) made absolutely no f***ing sense.

Taking names like TheManifestoOfMe.com, MessMentor.com and ValetsWithVaginas.com (don’t ask) was much harder than you’d ever think. (They are available if you want them.)

Taking them off auto-renew means letting go of the mental and financial clutter that is a domain name addiction and moving on.

* * *

I’m down to 40-50 now.

I should be around 25 in a few months.

It is still too much, in my opinion.

It’s a process.

Every time I receive an email from Go Daddy warning me that my life could possibly end if this domain name is not renewed, I am reminded that it is possible to let go of anything.

Absolutely anything, from domain names to much, much bigger patterns and beliefs. To dreams that no longer match me, to old ways of being and thinking.

Making space for the new, for that which moved you forward powerfully, is the key to a lot of healing. To a lot, period.

It isn’t easy, but it is doable.

And usually, cheaper, too.