I woke up to a completely blank slate one fine Sunday morning. I knew I had to come up for air. I had to come upstairs, sit in the sun and inhale. I responded to one inbound piece of communication. My response was one word. "Hilarious!"
I wandered over to the computer with my breakfast smoothie and cup of coffee. I sat down and wondered, "What do you want to bring into your day today?" Laughter. My answer was laughter.
I started with my friend, Facebook. Only everything was so "been there, done that" on that social platform. So I took a gander over at Twitter. I scrolled and scrolled and scrolled. I clicked on many, many clips from Ellen Degenerous [Freudian slip perhaps?? Look at how my fingers accidentally typed Ellen's last name. I'm leaving it, Because it fits]. Ellen was truly generous with her gift of humor. I laughed. I laughed some more. Then I laughed some more after that. The cats were curious about this noise I was making in a room all by myself. They came over and stood in front of the computer to divert my attention so I could give it to them instead. They are very generous that way. They loved me, they purred in my face and paced in front of the computer screen and I chuckled some more.
"Now what?" I wondered to myself. I made another cup of coffee, dragged a coffee table over beside the love seat in the living room, placed my reading material for the day upon said table then I picked up the book that has been calling out to me since I heard of its existence, Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes.
She had me at "hello.” Really, she didn't start the book with "hello" [actually, she did! I just had to do a little fact checking before submitting this column and it was there in big, huge print, "Hello" right on the very first page!] But you know what I mean. It was a "Jerry Maguire" moment. All she had to do was write and she had me. She had me good!
She was inside my head. She stole my thoughts. She knew exactly what I was thinking. Except the part where she said "Dreams are for losers" (can you believe I just picked up the closed book and it opened to that page all by itself? I tell you! Shonda is right there inside of my head and inside of my book!).
Even her comment about dreams being for losers struck me as something I already knew.
Last week when I felt my spark was completely extinguished and I was scraping myself up from the bottom of the pit of despair I was falling into, I picked up my "vision board" (Shonda also had derogatory remarks to say about my vision board, but I didn't hold a grudge because it serves its purpose for me). It was the actions that came from the ideas that were rekindled when I picked myself up and reminded myself of a vision of my life, that started moving me in a forward direction.
Shonda is all about "doing.” I was afraid to pick up her book because I knew without a doubt it was the book I needed to read. I thought she was going to boss me into doing this "yes" thing. So I have been practising so I would be ready to spar with her when I opened the cover.
I have been saying "yes" to the invitations and suggestions that have been coming my way lately. It has been hard but it has been good. Good for me. But did I mention it was hard?
I knew I had to do something. I have been "living to sleep" lately. There is absolutely nothing in the world that makes me happier at the end of a long kid-filled day, than knowing I have the evening to myself. I tend to my end-of-the-day chores and cannot wait for the moment I get to jump back into my pajamas, become one with the couch, numb the day with TV, sugar, greasy and salty snacks and fall into a deep slumber and mark another day off the calendar. Whew! Another day survived. How many more days until Sunday? Please make "Sunday" be what I need it to be!
I need my Sundays as much as I need oxygen. And my pajamas. And snacks. And sleep.
I cracked open Shonda's book and was prepared to be inundated with cheerleading and goal setting and optimism and mantras to hypnotize me and make me want to follow her example. Well? The last part of that sentence is true. I do want to follow her lead, but she didn't shame me into it. She "is" me. I "am" her.
How she could get so deep into the crevices of my mind and put what I am thinking and feeling so eloquently onto the page? Because I am her and she is me. I feel like I'm already halfway there.
Shonda is the best storyteller. Reading her book was like she was sitting across the room chatting with me. She is hilarious. I laughed long and I laughed hard. The cats came to see if I was dying or choking or something because they just aren't accustomed to that noise coming out of me. I started and finished reading the book within seven hours. That is a new record for me. I have the attention span of a gnat lately, but Shonda is very good at entertaining "gnats" like me.
I feel rejuvenated by this Day of Yes. I feel like a spark has been reignited. I have to keep fanning the flame, because I have felt this spark before but when deprived of oxygen, it keeps going out on me. I feel like I don't have enough hours in my day or days in my week and this feeling has been zapping my energy. But if Shonda can reign over "Shondaland" — create and produce three hit shows, "own" Thursday nights on TV, while saying "yes" to speaking engagements, friendship and mother three young children — who am I to complain? Well, knowing me, I'll still complain. But I'll do it from this new vantage point of saying "yes" to that which frightens me and all that encompasses.
