If you read the title of this post and think I’m full of B.S., I hope you’ll keep reading–with an open mind–especially if you struggle with depression. Especially because there are a lot more unhappy people in the world than you know. If you don’t think so, read this or this or this.

my inspiration board

You might be wondering if human behavior is condition-able. Think about this: have you ever associated a certain smell with memories from a specific era in your life? Here’s an example: in high school I was obsessed with Dr. Pepper chapstick by Lip Smacker. It’s the best chapstick ever. It makes my lips nice and smooth, with the slightest hint of color. I didn’t use it as much in college or in my early 20s and when I started using it again a few years ago, popping the cap off that red tube teleported me back to the campus of California High School in San Ramon.

You might have similar experiences with food smells, like your grandma’s apple pie that she used to make for you every summer when you came to visit. You are now conditioned to associate the smell of apple pie with visiting your grandma. It’s a conditioning that happened over time; it happened subconsciously and coincidentally.

So what would happen if we intentionally conditioned ourselves? Is it even possible?

Last year I was following this blog when the author was writing a lot about the psychological barriers to behavior change. It’s not about willpower, he insists. We cannot will ourselves out of depression or any other behavior. He did this thing last year where he asked his readers to comment with a solution to each of three different hypothetical scenarios–asking for tactics to implement behavior change.

One of the examples was about a guy who was always sad. He knew intellectually that there are a lot of things in life to be happy about and thankful for, and he knew intellectually that most people in the world are a lot worse off than he is. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to recognize the good things in his life and he was sad and depressed all the time.

The comment that got picked as the best idea was something about setting an alarm on his cell phone two or three times throughout the day, at the same times every day, and the alarm was to remind him to think about all the good things in his life. The sound should correlate with these things, so that after a while all he would need to do when he was feeling sad was to play the sound and he’d immediately improve his mood.

Sounds a bit like Pavlov’s dogs, right? Well, according to this interview (from the same author), humans are much more animal-like than we’d like to admit.

This all sounded logical enough to me, so I developed my own experiment. It’s broken down into 3 phases:

Phase 1

Set up conditioning process. (This is what I did, but you may think of something else that would work better for you.)

First, I picked out a happy song: Good Life by OneRepublic. I picked it because of the lyrics, which remind me that, yes, life is good.

Second, I got myself an individual size white board that I can keep in front of my face at my desk.

Third, I wrote things on the white board that make me feel happy (pictured above): write, read, journal, chat with friends, tell stories, sip coffee, bike around town, share, visit art galleries and museums, notice creativity in others, community. These are things that inspire me, and they are not material possessions.

Fourth, I made a ring tone for my iPhone of the happy song. (There are free apps that do this.)

Fifth, I set the alarm on my phone for 10 a.m. and 3 p.m. every day and selected the happy song as the ringtone.

Sixth, every time the alarm goes off, I hear the chorus of the song and it reminds me to play the whole song from iTunes. While the song plays, I reflect on the white board list. Sometimes I scroll through photos on Facebook. (When I first started this experiment last year, sometimes I listened to the song two or three times in a row.)

NOTE: Several things in this phase I chose very intentionally. I don’t feel particularly inspired when I read typed text, because I do that all the time. So I wanted my list of inspiration to be in my own handwriting. I also wanted it to be something more than a post-it note stuck to the side of my computer screen, which is why I chose the white board. Also, the song I picked was already associated with a time that I felt thankful and loved and generally happy about life.

Phase 2

Once I had spent at least 4 weeks associating the song with the things that inspire me, I began associating the song with specific activities.

from the photo bike ride

I continued: to play the song with the alarm reminder, reflecting on my inspiration board.

I added: playing the song while actually doing one of the activities on my inspiration list, or while doing something that lifts my mood. For example, on my list is sipping coffee. So I added in drinking coffee right around 10 a.m. so that activity would be incorporated with listening to the song and reflecting on my list.

Another example: After I had been in phase 1 for about 6 weeks, a friend and I went on a bike ride around downtown Sacramento. It was a photo ride: we were riding and taking pictures. I remember that it was in February because it was an unusually warm day for that time of year. We were riding around in tank tops, stuffing our sweaters into our bags because it was so warm. It was such a pleasant experience, and at one point the line “this is a good life” came to mind. So I played the song a few times while we continued our bike ride.

Phase 3

This phase is the ultimate phase, because I tested the affect of the conditioning on a bad mood.

I continued: phases 1 and 2.

I added: playing the song when I was in a bad mood, feeling down, sad or depressed to see if it lifts my mood.

Advancing to phase 3 was tricky because there was no way to know whether it would work except to give it a try. I’d been doing the conditioning experiment in phases 2 and 3. Things were going well. Mostly I felt like it was working, helping me to stay positive more often than feeling down. But there were still bad days: times when I felt really down, and I couldn’t seem to pull myself out. I still have those days, and they are hard days.

So I wanted to test how well I had conditioned myself. I thought that if I had associated the song with the things that help me feel good about life, then shouldn’t listening to the song help lift a mood when I’m actually feeling down?

The answer is yes. It’s not a snap-of-the-fingers change. It’s more like boiling-water change. If I’m depressed and I play the happy song, I can sit up. Then I can put my feet on the floor. Then I can stand up. Then I can put one foot in front of the other. Then I can make my way to the shower. Then I can keep moving, slowly building momentum for the rest of the day.

What do you think? Sound crazy? I’m curious to know your thoughts–and I’d love-love-love to hear from anyone who tries this (or a variation) for him or herself.

Read more about what I’ve learned along the way.  Sign up for my email list & get a free copy of my ebook, Bold is Beautiful.

This year I’ve been devoting a lot of time to Under the Gum Tree and trying to get exposure that will increase its subscribers and submissions. It’s slow-going. (Admittedly, I’m the most impatient person on the planet.) What I really want is a magic bean: If only someone like Seth Godin would write about Under the Gum Tree on The Domino Project, then thousands of people would subscribe!

One of my mantras in life is: it doesn’t hurt to ask. Of course asking for something is a risk: By asking for what I want, I open myself up to rejection and even possible ridicule. But the risk is so worth it, and I’m learning that it’s more worth it every time I just ask. I’m learning what to ask and how to ask it.

So until I’m ready to just ask Seth to feature the magazine, I’ve been reaching out and asking others. The first couple of times I emailed people, I said things like, “just wanted to let you know about a new magazine that you and your readers might be interested in, thanks!”

Really? If I got an email like that I would think to myself, “And?” Or, “That’s nice,” and promptly click DELETE.

Lucky for me I only did that two or three times, and when I didn’t get a response it was obvious why: those sweet little notes didn’t say a thing about what I hoped the email would accomplish. What’s wrong with you? You’re an editor and a teacher who is forever pounding message/audience/purpose into your students’ heads!

What I really want is to get the magazine featured on some high-profile blogs and websites. So I started sending emails saying things like, “I publish this magazine and if you think it’s appropriate for your readers, would you consider featuring it on your blog?” Some of the people I email reply back with a “no,” but so far it hasn’t been a blanket “no.” It’s been something along the lines of , “no, but you could write a guest post instead.”

And that is how Under the Gum Tree got featured on The Lit Pub. See? The risk of just asking yielded a small victory, and several others are in the works.

What’s your story of just asking that gave you a small victory?

Read more about what I’ve learned along the way.  Sign up for my email list & get a free copy of my ebook, Bold is Beautiful.

Depression sucks. It really does. Not only because you feel bad about yourself, but also because you feel bad talking about it. You don’t want to be the downer, and you really don’t want to bring your friends down. Am I right?

That’s one of the reasons I use the term “depressive tendencies.” It helps make the problem more manageable. I’m not depressed, because that implies a constant state of being, a relentless condition. Rather, I have depressive tendencies. It’s a thing that I have instead of a thing that I am. That means I that I tend to lean toward the negative side of neutral. Yes, it’s an inclination toward depression, but it’s not the norm. And if I know I’m inclined toward depression, I can be more aware of when I’m leaning in that direction.

Here are 5 things that help me deal with my depressive tendencies:

1. Visit a doctor. Just because you are sad one day, or even a couple of days in a row, doesn’t mean you’re depressed. So you first should talk to your doctor about what you’re experiencing. A low mood can be the result of a lot of different variables. Find out if there is anything natural that might be causing your depression. Can it be a side affect of the birth control you’re taking? Maybe you have vitamin B12 or vitamin D deficiency, or low blood sugar that could be contributing to fatigue and low energy. Sure, these things could also be a symptom of depression, but if they are isolated incidents you may be able to remedy the problem pretty easily.
2. Try as many natural remedies as possible. If you are experiencing things like low energy and fatigue, you may be able to remedy the problem with a diet change, vitamins, extra rest, exercise and yoga. It’s a good idea to try as many of those natural remedies because you’d be amazed by how much food affects the mood. I used to eat a lot of carbohydrates, which are full of refined sugar and flour. I cut those things out of my diet as an experiment, and now if I eat bread I notice the change in my mood almost instantly. Within an hour or less, I start to feel sluggish and low on energy. And yoga? I’m constantly amazed at how much the practice affects my mood: it forces me to slow down, to breath, to focus on my body. And a good instructor teaches with positive thinking.
3. Pay attention to what makes you happy, and indulge in those things. Sometimes I need a pick-me-up. Something that I know will give me the happy feeling instantly. Like a pedicure, or sitting in the sun and reading, or drinking coffee leisurely in the morning sun, or listening to a specific song. Sometimes the need is more drastic: taking a long walk, or taking an entire day to myself. Whatever it is that makes you happy in the moment, you need to be aware of those things so that you can make time for them when you need to. (Notice I’m not talking about eating; do not take this as advice to medicate with food.) When you’re feeling down, return to the small things that lift your spirits, use them as places of soothing, calming comfort.
4. Call in sick. Treat depression like any other sickness: if you get the flu, you stay home and rest for a day or two. Depression is no different. You can’t function if you’re not well, so you need to recover. It’s OK if that means staying in bed and crying for a day. So call in sick. Take a day off to rest and recover. It really does help to take a break from work, and that means anything that requires your mental, physical or emotional energy. Resting helps you regain the strength you need to move forward.
5. Look for creative stimulation. For me, that creative stimulation is writing. The last time I had a bad day of depression, I wrote for about 3 or 4 hours straight and came up with this blog post, along with 5 others. If you look at any number of history’s creative geniuses, some of their best work came out of their suffering. Getting the bad feelings out of your mind and body can often help you feel better. So write or paint or make music or dance. Pursue some sort of creative activity and see where it takes you.

When you suffer from depressive tendencies, it’s easy to feel like you have no control — you can’t control your mind or your emotions. You can’t even will yourself to get out of bed or to do something productive. But there are baby steps you can take toward helping yourself get out of your funk. It won’t happen over night, but if you get in the habit of trying some of these things, they will have a positive affect over time.

Read more about what I’ve learned along the way.  Sign up for my email list & get a free copy of my ebook, Bold is Beautiful.

Today is the first day in a long time that I’ve been depressed. I mean really really depressed. Like didn’t-want-to-get-out-of-bed depressed. And then when I did get out of bed, not-wanting-to-do-anything depressed.

So I stayed home. I stayed home and drank a cup of coffee while reading email. Then I took a long walk. Something I haven’t done for a while: take a long walk by myself. I put on the happy song play list so that it might help lift my mood. The moving and the sun helped, but I don’t think the music did.

But when I got home after the walk I was depressed again. I don’t really know why. Something takes over my mind and I wonder what is the point? What is the point of trying to make ThinkHouse successful? What is the point of publishing Under the Gum Tree? What is the point of trying to start a nonfiction storytelling series? What is the point of writing on my blog and trying to build an audience for my work?

Thankfully that train of thought never progresses to: what is the point of being alive?

The eyes feel groggy. Like they don’t want to be open, let alone stay open. Why do they feel groggy all the time? Even when I get enough sleep? It is a weight on the eyelids that I can’t seem to get rid of. Splash cold water. Still there. Drink coffee. Still there. Rest them for a few minuetes. Still there.

How do I make them feel awake when I need them to be awake and alert?

Sometimes I know I feel down because the house is a mess. It’s not quite depression, but a lack of calm. I know that when the house is clean and in order I feel more calm. So when I got home from the walk today, I went down the street to Ace Hardware to get some dish soap because we were out and I hadn’t done dishes for three days.

I did the dishes, but that didn’t help me feel better. I felt worse because I broke a wine glass. And when I’m depressed, I accidentally break things.

I started wondering if maybe I am depressed in the mornings and have a hard time getting out of bed because our bedroom is so dark. If maybe I need the sunlight coming in to help me wake up and feel cheery about the day. How do I know if that will make a difference or not? Maybe I should ask Jeremy to open the blinds when he gets up?

Maybe we should just sleep with the blinds open? But sometimes the moon is too bright at night or there is a street light that shines in and makes it hard for us to go to sleep. Oh well, maybe we should just try it. Even when the eyes are still groggy, being in the sun does help me feel more awake. So maybe the sunlight thing would do the trick. Our friends James and Monica live in New York, where they have an apartment between tall buildings that doesn’t get any natural light. So they use an alarm clock that is a light that imitates the sun rising when it goes off. Maybe something like that would help me?

I called the therapist today. I had been seeing a therapist last year, but she left her practice in December. She referred me to a new therapist, but I haven’t been going since December because I wanted to take a break. I wasn’t sure the therapy was helping. I didn’t like poking at the emotions twice a month and having two really shitty emotional days every month. So I was thinking about taking a break anyway. Plus I wasn’t sure that my therapist was the right match for me. I started feeling like a lot of her advice was repetitive and I wasn’t sure how much I was getting out of hearing the same thing over and over. So when she left her practice, I took the opportunity to break from therapy for a few months.

But now that I have been feeling so groggy and tired all the time, I started thinking that maybe I should go back to therapy. And today was kind of the cincher. I didn’t let me self cry yet, but I feel like I want to. Why? I don’t even know why? Maybe after I finish writing this I will go lay down in bed and cry for a little while. I haven’t had one of these kind of days for months. There was a time, about a year and a half ago, where I would spend most of my day in bed or crying, or both.

But, like I said, I haven’t had a day like that for months. What triggers it? Boredom? Dissatisfaction? Anxiety? Loneliness? How can I know? It just comes on all of a sudden?

Read more about what I’ve learned along the way.  Sign up for my email list & get a free copy of my ebook, Bold is Beautiful.

I found my first gray hair a few months ago. It kind of freaked me out. I knew it would happen some day. I just didn’t think it would happen one day when I am 32 years old.

I know, I know. Some people start going gray much earlier than that. Heck, my mom started going gray in her 20s and colored her hair for a good 30 years before she let it go gray. Now she has gorgeous sliver hair. My dad started going gray in is 30s, I think. I don’t remember. But he’s going to be 59 this year and he’s still not completely gray. And he’s not really salt-n-pepper either because his hair is a light, mousey brown. The same color as mine.

Which is why I am freaking out about the gray hair: how do I know if I will have my mom’s gray hair or my dad’s gray hair?

Maybe I should read this book? Going Gray: What I Learned about Beauty, Sex, Work, Motherhood, Authenticity, and Everything Else That Really Matters.

Why is going gray such a big deal anyway? Is it because it signals aging? Is it because youth is the beauty that’s idealized in our culture? Why do women obsess about covering up the natural parts of our body? We cover our natural hair with dye, to hide the color we don’t like. We cover our natural skin with make up, to hide the zits and wrinkles. We cover the parts of our bodies we don’t like with clothes: if we don’t like our feet, we don’t wear sandals; if we don’t like our legs, we don’t wear shorts; if we don’t like our arms, we don’t wear sleeveless tops.

When I found the first gray, I told my girlfriends. They said I was hallucinating. They looked at my hair and practically had a magnifying glass pointed at my roots before they said, “ah, oh, there it is.” And then promptly followed it up with, “but you can’t even see it. Especially with your curly hair, it won’t be noticeable forever.”

That didn’t help. Stephanie doesn’t color her hair (she’s low-maintenance, like me) and she has no gray. Allyson colors her hair every 4 weeks so she wouldn’t even know if she has any gray.

Then I went to see Samantha, my hair stylist. And I told her I was thinking about getting highlights to help cover up the gray. First she didn’t believe that I have gray hair. She did the whole, “where? No, you don’t” thing that my friends did when I frist told them about the pesky things. Then she used her pinky finger to slice into my hair, pulling up each section and looking at the part along the side of my head. “oh, yeah, there they are,” she said. There were even more hiding underneath!

So I said, “Yeah, highlights. To help hide the gray for a while.”

“Highlights are too high-maintenance for you,” she said.

And that’s just it. I’m a low-maintenance girl. Always have been. I barely wear make-up. For a long time I only wore mascara. Now I wear mascara and eye shadow. It doesn’t take me more than 10 minutes to do my make-up in the morning. None of this concealer, foundation, powder, eyeliner shit that takes more than 30 minutes to apply.

I used to think that women who got their legs waxed were high-maintenance. I associated the cost of up-keep with the level of maintenance required: the more it cost the higher-maintenance it is. Now I get my legs and armpits sugared every 4 weeks. No, it’s not cheap. But I’ve decided that shaving every day is more maintenance than getting sugared once every 4 weeks. It’s about time, not money. So forget spending more than 10 minutes on doing my make-up.

That’s why I’ve never colored my hair.

Actually, that’s not entirely true. I did get highlights once a few years ago, but only because it was a birthday gift from my best friend Sarah, and she paid for it. She also helped me communicate to the stylist what I wanted: something natural that I could let grow out without it looking funky.

And that’s exactly what I did. I got my hair highlighted one time. No fuss, no upkeep.

So when Samantha now tells me that highlights are too high-maintenance for me, she’s so right. What was I thinking? But I don’t want to dye my hair, either. I like the my hair color. But Samantha also says that doing a full color would be easier to maintain, and I could just dye it the same color as my natural hair to cover up the gray.

This has all happened in the last six months, and guess what? I now have more gray!

Sarah decided this would be the year that she doesn’t color her hair. She has more gray than I do and she seems to be OK with it.

None of my friends admit to seeing my gray hair. Neither does my husband! (He probably knows that’s the best choice in this situation.) But I know they are there. I see them. They are little shiny specks on the top of my head, right along my part. I see them every day. And, yes, I think about coloring them. But then I think about how it’s not like me to cover things up. And I think about the upkeep of one. more. thing.

So for now, here’s what I’m going to do about going gray: absolutely nothing.

Read more about what I’ve learned along the way.  Sign up for my email list & get a free copy of my ebook, Bold is Beautiful.

I’ve been super nervous lately. Nervous about my trip to Chicago. Nervous about promoting Under the Gum Tree. Nervous about the magazine’s next issue. Nervous about applying for a job.

It’s weird because I usually feel like I’ve got things under control for the most part. Even when I’m stressed, at least I know what I have to do and feel confident in getting it all done. I’m usually nervous on the first day of class, which I have come to expect and I’m used to. That’s normal.

But lately the nerves have been out of control. More of a constant than an expected peak when circumstances arise. So, being the perpetual processer that I am, I’ve been trying to understand what’s going on with the nerves. Why do I have more nerves than usual? What, exactly, is making me nervous?

Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:

Nerves mean you care. If I weren’t nervous about Under the Gum Tree, then I probably wouldn’t care about it as much as I do. I want it to be successful so badly that I worry about how people will react when they see it — will they like it enough to buy a copy? To subscribe? Will writers like it enough to want to submit for a chance to be included in a future issue?

Most of the time I brush these worries off as superficial attempts at trying to fit in. But the answer to those questions determine how successful the magazine will be. If people don’t like it, they won’t subscribe, and it won’t be self-sustaining. Not only that, but also it won’t impact anyone — and that’s the thing I really care about.

Nerves force excellence. If I weren’t nervous about Under the Gum Tree, I wouldn’t painstakingly look for stories and photographers and editors and designers to help make the magazine as best as it possibly can be. I wouldn’t hunt the web for the best possible solution to print-on-demand technology or write guest posts to promote it and spread the word about what the project is all about.

The nerves force me to double and triple check my work. My editors and I read each issue of the magazine a combined total of 10 times or more. It’s tiring. By the end of it my eyes hurt and my brain is mush. But I’m too nervous to not check the work two or three times, too nervous to try to skate by doing everything myself.

Nerves signal the the right path. If I weren’t nervous about the job I recently applied for, then what’s the point in applying? The nerves signal that maybe it is something worth considering. Maybe this opportunity is actually a big deal — and the nerves are the thing that tell me that.

I didn’t get the job. But you better believe I should have been nervous, because I was one of the top five candidates out of 150 applicants. And even though I didn’t get the job, the fact that I made it as far as I did validated so much of my work. It means that I’m doing right by my career with the projects that I choose to work on. It means that even though I haven’t had a job-job for five years, I’m still a viable candidate for a high-profile position in my field.

So when you’re nervous, think about the why. Nerves may mean some discomfort, but they’re usually there for a reason. And if you pay attention to them, they can help. Nerves just might be a good thing.

What about you? When was the last time you were really nervous about something? Can you see how maybe the nerves were actually a good thing?

Read more about what I’ve learned along the way.  Sign up for my email list & get a free copy of my ebook, Bold is Beautiful.

The Red Boots and I tromped all over Chicago last week. We attended the 2012 Association of Writers & Writing Programs (AWP) conference. We visited my cousin, who lives there and is recently involved in the city’s stand-up comedy scene. We passed out postcards and told everyone we could about Under the Gum Tree.

The Red Boots and I were a lonely 2 of 10,000 attendees.

Not even wearing the red boots seemed to help dissuade feeling overwhelmed, nervous, exhausted, outnumbered, lost in the crowd and even frustrated.

See, the thing is that I can muster up the boldness to wear The Red Boots once, but I have to muster it up all over again next time. But wearing The Red Boots for the first time should give me the strength to wear them again, because I know it’s something I’m capable of. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.

Once I started wearing The Red Boots, I wanted them to be magical. I wanted them to give me super powers. I thought that simply by wearing them I’d change, just like Clark Kent or Bruce Wayne. I wanted an instant phone booth transformation that would allow me to, when dealing with major health issues and emotional trauma last year, share candidly with anyone and everyone who asked, “how are you doing?” The Red Boots should give me the power to honestly say, “really awful,” and then continue to share why. Not because I wanted sympathy, but because I wanted an authentic connection with people around me.

Instead, what I’m learning is that it took time to work up to wearing The Red Boots: they sat on the floor in my closet for almost a year before I wore them. I remember looking at them every day, thinking about how to wear them, what outfit combos to pair with them. That year got my mind used to the idea of wearing The Red Boots, and I had to be mentally comfortable wearing them before I could be physically comfortable wearing them.

And I still have to give myself time to work up to wearing The Red Boots — whether that means sharing about deeply personal and painful things or peddling my magazine.

Because the truth is that in the midst of said emotional trauma, I would have broken down crying every time someone asked how I was and I certainly didn’t have the strength to deal with that.

Because the truth is that, while I may be known for wearing The Red Boots, they aren’t magical and there’s still a certain amount of gearing up for vulnerability and shameless self-promotion that goes on behind the scenes.

Time gives me the distance I need to process, adjust, accept, move, write, and tell my story…when I’m ready.

What to know more about The Red Boots? Sign up for my email list & get a free copy of my ebook, Bold is Beautiful.

It’s been a busy couple of weeks in my world. I’ve been teaching, writing, publishing. Here’s the nutshell update:

1. Re-vamping this very website. Let me know your thoughts in the comments. I’m still tweaking things and would love some feedback.
2. The next issue of Under the Gum Tree. Subscribe, if you haven’t already. Submit if you haven’t done that either.
3. Getting ready for a trip to AWP in Chicago. I’ll be staying with my cousin, who blogs over at Pop!GoesAlicia.
4. Teaching online writing workshops for young writers. Next session begins March 12. Spread the word if you know a young writer.
5. Setting up an email newsletter. You can sign up here and get a copy of my ebook, Bold is Beautiful. I’d love some feedback on that as well.
6. This ebook: Bold is Beautiful. You’ll get a free copy if you sign up for the email list. If you get the ebook, let me know what you think!
7. Blogging again: Why I don’t Celebrate Valentine’s Day. Leave a comment and let me know your thoughts!

Whew! That might seem like a lot of info to take in. Not to worry, I’ll be doing more stuff online featuring one thing at a time. For now I’d really love it if you sign up for my email list — you’ll get a copy of my ebook if you do. Hope to see you around these parts on a regular basis.

“So tomorrow is Valentine’s Day,” my husband says to me.

“Yes, it is,” I say.

“Are you OK if we don’t celebrate?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Now, conventional wisdom says that when a woman says she doesn’t want something, she actually does want it and she’s just testing the man to see whether or not “he really knows her.”

Maybe some women do that, and if they do I say it’s a bunch of bull shit.

There are no reasons to play such childish games. If women have a real relationship with their significant other, it should include honesty and meaning exactly what you say.

And I meant it when I said it was OK if we didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day. I’ve never liked the faux holiday and that doesn’t change now just because I’m married. The thing I hate most about the day is not that it’s a money-making scheme, but that everyone falls for it every damn year.

You know that flowers and candy and cards are more expensive on Valentine’s Day, and yet you still buy them. Why?

You know that getting a dinner reservation on Valentine’s Day will be more difficult than on any other day of the year, and yet you still attempt to make one. Why?

You know that all the other love-struck people are going to wait until the last minute to buy all their Valentine’s Day crap and so that store will be extra crowded and the lines will be extra long, and yet you still participate in fighting the crowd for the last dozen roses or the last heart-shaped box of chocolate. Why?

Why do we do this to ourselves? It’s all a frenzy to do what we are supposed to do: we buy things that are put in front of us at the store, we send cards because Hallmark tells us to. We are robots, automatically and mindlessly doing what the consumer culture dictates.

Wine tasting over the weekend. This is my brain on wine:

Should I keep blogging?

I’m bored by blogs. Most of them recycle the same content over and over. Everyone in the blogosphere is an expert, and non-experts seek advice from the experts on how to become one. If you want to be successful as an A-List Blogger, you need to help your readers: you need to solve a problem or fill a need. Which basically means you have to be a teaching blog or a how-to blog. I don’t want to have a teaching blog or a how to blog. I want to tell stories. I think I tell pretty good stories. Here’s a fun story I wrote about giving my phone number to a homeless guy and here are some fun stories about my old scooter, Scottie.

Anyway, if I find the medium unappealing, what is the purpose of contributing to it? I can’t decide.

How does food affect my being?

Notice I didn’t say, “How does food affect my body?” During the month of February, I did a 21-day cleanse. It was the first time I’d ever done anything like it and it really was an amazing experience. The purpose of a cleanse is to detox your system, clean out the liver and essentially reset your digestive tract.

Good news: Not only did I lose 12 pounds (yay!), but also I was more in tune with my body than I’ve ever been in my entire life (not exaggerating). I had to pay attention to things like, how often am I peeing? Am I really hungry, or should I just have a glass of water? Can I really go for THAT long without bread? It’s bread we’re talking about here. Bread.

(Also. Apparently I am something of a trendsetter because no less than 10 people I know decided to, or want to do the cleanse after I did.)

Bad news: in the last 2 months since being off the cleanse, I am back to being my bloated, sometimes constipated, grumpy-in-the-morning and moody self. So the question remains: how does food (and which foods) affect my being?

What’s really important to me?

Without getting into a bunch of boring details, I’ve also recently been dealing with some major health issues. And if you think about it, the idea of losing your state of good health brings pretty much everything into perspective, doesn’t it? I mean, if you don’t have the energy to participate in every networking event available (because of your health), is attending any of them even important to begin with? If poor health kept you from doing more than one social outing per week, would you choose a networking event where everyone puts on their fake selves or would you choose to meet up with a college friend you haven’t seen in 5 years?

How can I tell stories more effectively?

Rather, how can I actively help others with the power of vulnerability and my propensity for it? Remember back up under the question about whether I should continue blogging, the part where I was talking about having to help readers by solving a problem or meeting a need? Yeah, see, the thing that I’m best at in the world is being vulnerable. This poses a huge problem, because how does one turn being vulnerable into something that meets a need or solves a problem? It’s not something you can package very easily and it’s definitely not something you can sell. But when I tell stories, the response is always positive and something like “wow, I’ve felt/experienced/dealt with that same thing, but thought I was the only one.”

Logically this means that the simple act of sharing does help others. As long as there are others to receive what I have to share.

So should I stop blogging?

If sharing vulnerable stories helps others, what does that mean for me if I stop blogging? See the dilemma? It’s a catch 22, right? A vicious circle.

Well, maybe not. I can use a different medium to tell stories. And if I choose a different medium, I can provide an outlet for others to share their story as well. That is how I came up with the idea for Under the Gum Tree.

I still haven’t decided whether I will keep blogging or not. But in the meantime, my energies are focused on continuing to contemplate these things and produce the first issue of Under the Gum Tree.

I would love to hear from anyone about the project, whether you’d like to contribute or you just have an idea. And, please, help spread the word.