Things are a bit sparse over here while Magpie Girl is getting a face lift. I hope you don’t mind a little walk down memory lane, beginning with this piece from May 2008. Thanks for being here!

_____________________________

Cate was yelling at me. Again.

Every day it’s the same story. I pick Cate up from school and she happily shows me the new trick she can do on the peddle car; the stone she dug up in the sand pit; how many times she can hop the jump rope on one foot. We find Eden and start the ten minute walk home. By minute seven Cate is screaming about something. Anything.

We started with sympathy, then moved on to time outs, and I’m sure at some point there’s been some yelling on my part as well. Clearly Cate was struggling with the transition between school and home. Clearly she was angry. And clearly whatever she was yelling about was not what was really bothering her.

Finally, I sat her down at the kitchen table and got down at eye level. I addressed her very calmly and very seriously, “Cate. This isn’t working. You’re having trouble moving between being at school and being at home. I can see that you are angry, right?”

“Yes! I. AM. ANGRY!” (also crying)

“It’s totally okay to be angry. But screaming at Mommy is not okay, right?”

“RIGHT! OKAY? OKAY? RIGHT! RIGHT! RIGHT!”

“Did you know anger is a cover-up emotion? It covers up some other emotion. Something else is hiding under there.”

“It is?” (now backing down to mere sniffles)

“Yes. And I need you to think about it and tell me what it is that’s hiding under there.”

With that, the floodgates broke open. She missed all the friends she left behind when we moved. She didn’t have any friends at school. And she missed BF Day (her old school.) And some of the kids said mean things. And she doesn’t know Danish yet. And her only friends who speak English live far, far away. And did she mention, she didn’t have any friends at school?

Well, I’d already addressed all of those things. We talked about how making friends was her superpower, but that it took time. I had reminded her that we had only been at the new school for 2 weeks. I had explained that it would take a little longer than usual because we don’t know Danish yet. But, I had assured her, friends would come.

Knowing I’d already said all of this, and having a not unsmall amount of parental wisdom, I did not go into this again. Instead I asked her a question of clarification, “Cate. Do you want Mommy to talk about all these problems with you, or do you just need someplace to put them all.”

“Like what place?”

“Like a shrine.”

“I could make a shrine?”

Sure could. I dove under my desk and came up with three or four odd little boxes and tins. Cate chose a tin that used to hold bandages – Jesus bandagesto be exact. After asking for stickers, tape and some scratch paper, Cate went to work. Soon she had a bonafide Shrine for Hard Feelings. It consisted of the bandage tin, a sticker of a sacred heart Jesus, some fortune cookie sized strips of paper cello-taped to the side, and one of those tiny golf pencils. Cate wrote her hard feelings down on the pieces of paper and tucked them into the tin.

“If I put these in here, Jesus will make the sad feelings go away.” she said.

“Well,” I fine tuned, “Jesus might not make them go all the way away, but at least he can hold them for a little while.”

Cate has been faithfully using the Shrine for Hard Feelings for a week now. Sometimes she’ll start ramping up into a yell-fest, but then you can see her sort of visibly pull up, and she’ll say “Wait a minute,” and go find her shrine. I’ll see her scribbling away, then tucking the paper into the tin and snapping it shut. A few minutes later she’ll be back with me, or her sister, or her dad, and the steam will have been vented.

Sometimes I wonder what all my ad hoc spirituality is teaching my children. I’m trying my best — but so did my parents, and my church, and my religious school — and I sure ended up with a bunch of crap mixed in there with the goodies. If I make up random sacraments, if my children spend their lives building Shrines for Hard Feelings and hurling plates at Anger Altars, will they regret it? I am not sure. But this I believe; my attempts, though small and flawed and most assuredly open for misinterpretation, these humble attempts at caring for these precious souls will teach them these true things

Your feelings are real.
Someone loves you enough to help in hard times.
God is big enough to handle your anger.
There is a place for you.

That seems like a good place to start.

I’m getting ready to teach Soulcraft for the first time over at Flock. (I’m so excited!) To get ready I gathered up a lot of my past work — from 2004 onward — to share as examples. Wow! Was I surprised at how much I’d produced! (And these are only the one’s I’d already taken photos of or scanned into the computer.)

What would happen if you gathered up all the projects you’ve worked on in the past year to two? You might be pleasantly surprised! Stack all your knitting, gather all your sketches, print out all your poems. Let’s open a gallery!

a selection of my collages, with ideas for supplies

Cate with the Snowball of Honor – a snow egg.

It is silent and still as “snow, on snow, on snow”  comes down. Cate and I are bundled up to our noses against the cold, but happy in the oasis that is the walled garden near our urban home.

“Can we visit the Fairy Tree?,” asks Cate.

“Of course!” I reply.

“Oh good, I want to give the Fairies the Snowball of Honor.” says Cate.

When we get to the tree, Cate leaves her snowball in a hollow as an offering.

“Hey Cate,” I say, “tomorrow is Epiphany and we get to find the name of the star we will follow for the year. Want to ask the Fairies what the name of your star will be?” She nods. She closes her eyes and holds out her hand it it’s puffy pink glove. I say, “Imagine that the Fairies are carrying a word to you. They are swirling around you like the snow flakes. And now, they are putting the word in your hand.”  I touch her open palm with one finger. “Open you eyes! ”

The second her eyes open, the word is on her tongue. “Friendship!” she exclaims. “The name of my star is Friendship!”

And so, our new year begins.

Cate, last Winter, at the Fairy Tree.

For those of you who would like to move deeper into a practice of  Epiphany, you can learn more about this tradition, receive a spoken-word blessing, and get help crafting your own High Holy Days atFlock with Magpie Girl: a soulcare spa.  Thanks for being here!

 
Pen’s photo of her Dear John letter — a long overdue break up with fear.

Have you read Pen’s break up letter over at The Penny Has Dropped? Seriously. It’s the best post I’ve read all year.

Like many of you I’ve been kind of blah about reflecting on 2009. And I’m even less organized in my thoughts about what I want to project into 2010. But telling fear to fuck off?  That I’m in to.

So here’s what I’m thinking, tonight, on New Year’s Eve, I’m going to write a break up letter to fear. Not only is it New Year’s Eve, but it’s also a Full Moon, and a Blue Moon to boot. If that’s not serious mojo, I don’t know what is. So what do you say? Wanna join me?

What parting words do you have to say to Fear? Jot them down on a note card. Then take a photo and add it to our Flickr pool to encourage others to dump the bum. Say “I’m in!” in the comments below to help us all along.  “Be bold, and mighty forces will come to your aid.”

It is The Day After the launch of Flock. Now that I’ve birthed something new out into the world the post-pregnancy hormones are turning into a big boiling pot of neurosis stew. All my gremlin voices are chattering away at me, and my insecurities are looming large.

The monkey-ish part of my mind is telling me that everything is going to fall apart: I’ll get sick again and not be able to keep up. No one will pay for my services and skill. And the loudest message of all: “Everyone Else is more Helpful than You.”

I’m embarrassingly predictable.

Part of this pattern is attributable to my religious upbringing, which drilled into my subconscious this If/Then clause:

If you ‘step out to do God’s work’ then you will ‘come under attack.’

I point this out because I know many of my readers are in the same boat. I think part of what we do here together, is to re-write our inner narratives so they reflects more health, more shalom. When my voices loom large and I start defining things as “attack,” it helps to remember that this discombobulated feeling is actually a normal part of the creative process; that many of my artistic friends express the same phenomenon; and that like the physical reality of childbirth, eventually these hormonally-things level out.

In the wake of this gremlin uprising, I decided to check in with some of my favorite writers. Once a week or so I go through the blogs on my RSS feeds. I follow about 50 people, and checking in on them is one of my favorite things to do when I feel stuck, or overwhelmed, or lonely. There is so much beauty in these writers and artists, so much wisdom, and hope and breakthrough. Today was no different. Everyone seemed to have cooked up good stuff over the holidays. But this time, instead of inspiring me, those rich, winsome posts started getting me down. “See,” said the monkey gremlins “I told you Everyone Else is More Helpful than You.”

I started getting whiney. Whiney, insecure, and jealous. I don’t want those feelings. I don’t even feel like they belong to me. They belong to my miserly, selfish, un-generous Evil Twin. The real me is grateful and generous. The real me celebrates the success and wisdom of Other Women. The real me is Dangerously Giving. The real me is madly in love with Abundance and throws things out into the universe two handfuls at a time.

So in an effort to quite my Gremlins, settle my Monkey Mind, and banish my Evil Twin, I decided to sing. (Tra La La!) As an antidote, I am Singing the Praises of kind bloggers who have brought wisdom, insight and beauty into my life today. I’m honoring their Passion and Attentiveness. I’m saying: “Hey, look over there at what THEY did!” Most of all, I’m being grateful. Because at my core, that is my truest self.

May you find all these good things and more today.

Much Warmth,

Rachelle

Bloggers to Banish The Gremlin Blues

If you need to banish fear from your life: write a Dear Fear letter with The Penny Has Dropped. (She starts with “Dear Fear, fuck off….). And for more on fear, have a cuppa with the ElderWoman (via Anchors and Masts).

If you need a rite of letting go for the New Year:  Pink Coyote has a powerful one. (It involves fire!)

If you need to set aside all the rush and emotion and ups and downs of The Holidays and just celebrate possibility, The Bliss Chick can help.

If you are dreading re-entry to your work/school/normal routine, The Girl Who Cried Epiphany has some good thoughts on dealing with other people’s energy. (A constant growing edge for me.)

Who gave you the food you needed today? Share some link love in the comments below and pass the goodness on!

This week on guest post day, I’m delighted to have Kara from Mother Henna here to talk to us about creative ways to address and honor our grief.

From colorful celebrations like Dia de los Muertos to more solemn ceremonies like Blue Christmas mass, Kara has gathered an impressive list of resources to help you or someone you love navigate the difficult waters of the holiday season.

In my work as a pastor, and later as a soulcare specialist, I found that those who are experiencing grief are severely underserved. So please, pass this resource around. The world needs people like Kara who know good grief.

8 Creative Approaches to Grief:
creating new traditions for the holidaze
by Kara LC Jones

When talking with people about grief & creativity, I often hear things like, “I’m just not very creative” or “I’m not really an artist.”  The thing about learning to live life after loss is that creativity becomes an every day practice, not just an artistic endeavor.  It’s not always about writing poetry or drawing or painting.  When someone is overwhelmed by grief and goes to the ocean to throw rocks as a way to express anger, they are being creative.  When someone chooses to pay for the coffee of the person behind them, leaving a Kindness Card for the person, they are being creative. 

So at this time of year, when the holidays might end up seeming like a holidaze for bereaved people, I thought it might be helpful to offer 8 seasonal ideas for practicing your creative approach to living life after loss.

1) Remembrance Day and Month
The month of October and particularly October 15th are Pregnancy Loss, Infant & Child Death Awareness times.  Just know that if the death of a child is what has you in a holidaze, you are not alone.  Take a moment each day to light a candle.  Spend a few silent moments honoring your love for that child.  Grief cannot take away your love.

2) Day of the Dead. The month of October is also preparation and lead up to Days of the Dead.  October 31st is sometimes thought of as the day of the innocents, honoring the children who have died first.  Then November 1 and 2 are honoring anyone who has died, who you wish to honor.  There is a long history and cultural context to these traditions, and rituals often vary depending on the particular community in which you celebrate.  But most all include making, decorating, and displaying of sugar skulls.  We host a day every October for people to come to our home, make & decorate sugar skulls, and then place them on our community ofrenda or take home for their personal altars.  We pass the bucket on these days, too, and any proceeds raised go to the local Food Bank in honor of all those we are remembering.  Read the rest of this entry »

“Where is that place for me? For you? For the creative community of us — we, the ladies who art. Where is the seam that weaves together our deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger?”
__________________

These are emerging thoughts and I share them with not an un-small amount of trepidation. But they won’t leave me alone, these wonderings, and I need all the contributors to The Giant Pool of Wisdom to help me out.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately — off and on for years really — about this odd and wonderful bubble we live in. On good-humor days I think of it as something like “the women’s creative empowerment community.” I like it, this loose group of wonderful women who are finding their voice, expressing their creativity, and rebuilding their spirituality in the studio instead of the sanctuary. (Or as I like to think of it, the studio has become the sanctuary.) I love working in this milieu. I know, that I know, that I know these are my people. And nothing gives me more joy than teaching and learning in this world.

On cynical-humor days I think of myself as “the middle-class middle-aged white woman doing crafts.” Do you know what I mean? Kind of cushy, and whiney, and little bit frivolous. It makes me think of all those Jane Austen novels. How all the female characters embroidered, or did crewel work, or played the harpsichord. “The womanly arts,” they were called.  It was what women did when they weren’t allowed to do anything else. Correction, it was what privileged women did when then didn’t have to do anything else (and also, they weren’t allowed. A combination then.)  On cynical days I substitute “embroidery, crewel work, and harpsichord” with “mixed media collage, photography, and guitar lessons” and I feel a little–well, frivolous.

Then I get my feminist dander up and I remember that women’s work has always been downgraded. The most amazing intricate needle and tapestry work would be referred to as “craft” while oil paintings done in the all-male studios of yore were classified as “art.” Even now, women are severely under-represented in galleries and museums, as the film Who Does She Think She Is so passionately demonstrates. This distinction is still there — it’s changing, true — but it’s still there. And it bothers me.

But in addition to this feminist outrage, more than the slight discomfort I feel around my so-called cushy life, I am deeply bothered by the imbalance that I feel between two worlds I admire and desire: The introspective and necessary world of self-fulfillment and self-expression. And the equally necessary world of charity and social justice. I feel…unsatisfied…with the extent to which these two worlds intertwine. And I see other creative women trying to find a way to tie the two together as well. There are ripples out there, and rumors of another way. We are exploring. We are finding the connection.

It’s already so hard to make a living, to make your art, to raise your kids, to tell your story, and to be in a relationship. How can we possibly do any more?  (Throw in all these mysterious “women’s diseases” like fibromyalgia, chronic fatigue, and migraines and it gets even harder.) And yet, and yet….

I guess it’s that I feel, YES, your story is important. Yes, you, white girl with the two kids and the minivan. You story, your creative dreams are essential to the universe. But so are our African sisters’, so are our Latina sisters’, so is every sisters’. And how do they find the strength to tell their stories, after a day of trying to make ends meet. How do we help? How do we partner?  How do we teach and learn from each other?

I keep thinking about Fredrick Beuchner’s famous quote about vocation from Wishful Thinking:

“The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.”

Where is that place for me? For you? For the creative community of us — we, the ladies who art. Where is the seam that weaves together our deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger?

In the excellent but now defunct television series Joan of Arcadia, God tells Joan that she has suffered from “a crisis of imagination.”  I think that might be it. In spite of all our creativity, I think we are suffering from a crisis of imagination. I think there is more.

Recently, I’ve been listening to Pride, Prejudice and Zombies, a freaking brilliant adaptation of the Jane Austen novel in which the characters do not practice “The Womanly Arts,” but rather are trained in “The Deadly Arts.” The art of combat. The art of defense. These are not little women. These are Warrior Girls. How can we be warrior girls for our sisters? How can champion their right to be in this world?

Really I have very little idea. But I know it’s always a good plan to take a step. It might not be the step that works out, but it will lead you to the next, and the next, until you find the path. So my step, right now, is to put both feet quite firmly on one particular stepping stone. I will announce that I have fallen in love with the Apparent Project, a program run by people I know and adore in Haiti. Through the Apparent Project, Shelley and Corrigan Clay, who are artists,  feed street kids, house kids who were forced to be left behind due to poverty, adopt orphans into their own family, and help women learn skills to support their families. I am head-over-heels with this small, grassroots program— in much the same way that I am in love with art. But I can you imagine me, the migraineur, in Haiti? No. Help. At. All.

So I will do what little I can. I will give ten percent of whatever profit I make this year – from my upcoming EBooks and Ecourses and whatever else might come my way—I will give ten percent of that profit to Haiti. And, whenever I can think of a way to encourage others to chip-in, through the A Year Without Clothes Pledge, or any other thing that crosses my path, I will do so. I will not have a crisis of imagination. I will learn to connect the dots.

It won’t be much. But perhaps this is the practice that will open the door, the rehearsal that will shine light on the solution to this hunger in my life. To be a mother, and an artist…and a warrior girl for others.

 Do you think we can find the way? Let’s jump.

Click here to contribute to the chip-in for the Apparent Project, or tell us your ideas in the comments below. Thank you for being here!

Are your children fighting every request you make? Is nothing you say or do “right”? Are all of you grumbling under your breathe and making what my kids call “the huffy voice”?  That my friends, is Resistance.

Thankfully Nikki Di Virgilio of The Soul Reporter is here with a guest post for us today; and it’s full to the brim about the mysteries behind Resistance, and some tools to keep it from happening.

Kids and The Resistance Epidemic
by Nikki Di Virgilio

How many times have we told our kids to do something and they either refuse, or do so with a constant whiney tune, of I don’t want to and why do I have to.  The request can be something as simple and mediocre as wiping the table, and yet they put up a fight.  It’s frustrating, and causes tension between our kids and us.  Depending on the severity of the resistance in our household, this tension over time can create an isolating and perhaps even numbing relationship, which is damaging to both parent and child. 

Resistance is defined as: the act or power of resisting, opposing, or withstanding.  Unfortunately resistance is our first response to almost any that comes our way. This is often the same for our children.

The word “power” is in the very definition of resistance. Resistence itself  is a power struggle between parent and child. Once we enter this planet, we are instantly faced with the power struggle of balancing the demands upon our minds, bodies and souls. We have to breathe on our own.  We have to eat to live.  We have to sleep to function and be well.  These are required and necessary things.  But then we get older, and there are more requirements. And these requirements often do not align with the truth of who we are and what we seek.  School demands we pay attention, not chew gum, not wear our hair a certain way, be smart, be happy, learn, and agree with what is being taught. Then society demands we look and act in a certain way. As do our parents. 

Consciously or unconsciously our children are absorbing all of these little and big demands all the time. It is no surprise they are resisting!  We are energetic beings, here to unfold the purpose of our soul.  We are not machines, which comply with the buttons being pushed–although we can, and often do. However, most of us don’t want to, especially the young ones who are coming to our planet right now.  They are different, and leading us on a new course, which is more properly aligned with our soul.

 What lessons and tools can we use to help our children grow beyond Resistance? 

 Lesson #1 : Teach cooperation.  Cooperation means working or acting together for a common purpose and benefit. No matter the age of our children, they will respond positively with this larger idea of cooperation. They often like to help and be a part of something bigger. We just have to show how valuable it is, and determine the common purpose.  Read the rest of this entry »

Hello Loves. I’ve been in the throes of the Creative Process lately. I keep thinking I will write about it later…You know, when I’ve got it all digested and the words come out poetically with stunning insight that leads you all to “oooh” and “aah.” Alas, this does not seem to be happening.

So here it is my sweet Magpie Girl friends, all raw and in the mess.

I’m working hard right now. I’m finally well enough that I can work. My iron levels are no longer at a near-critical state, and my energy has dramatically improved. Now I can actually stay awake all day. I don’t have to go up the stairs to my studio on my hands and knees (literally), and the migraine pain doesn’t lay me up nearly as often. It feels good, just to be able to work this hard.

Coming Now(ish): Magpie Girl Guidebooks!
I’ve got two small PDF books on the cusp of being done. They are in that endless editing process where all the little details need to be decided upon on in the design, and all the typos need to be fixed in the text. The main book is a slim volume called SoulRetreats: How to host a tribe with art and soul. It goes to the editor this weekend, and will be for sale the first or second week of November.

The supplemental book is SoulFood: How to cook for a tribe. It just went to the designer today, and I hope to have it available for you as a free download by the end of the month. (I wanted both of them up for my 40th, but I’m letting go of self-imposed deadlines and trying not to be a drama queen about it.) These two books are part of a new series of  Magpie Girl Guides.  (There are 4 more planned.) I could not be more thrilled that the first two are a collaborative effort with my Soulsisters! I’m just so damned proud and grateful I can hardly stop beaming over it.

Up Next: Your Soultribe!
On the heels of these book projects is my newest brainchild – on-line Soultribes! I’ll be offering two Soultribes beginning in January:

• Soulcraft Circle will be focused on doing a monthly art-based spiritual practice together.
• Magpie Girl’s High Holy Days will be about celebrating seasonal rites and rituals based on my own kooky Magpie Girl mix of traditions.

Both Soultribes will feature a private website where you’ll receive monthly assignments from moi, plus a place to share your experiences with others. Artful soulcare with a tribe! What could be better?

Won’t it be a great to start the New Year with a tribe around you? I’m “pinch me” excited!

The Way It Makes me Feel
In the midst of all this creating I’m vacillating wildly between opposing emotions. One minute I’m thinking, “Squee! I have so many lovely pals!”; and the next I’m desperately lonely. Monday I may be happy to spread around the goodness regarding all my virtual collegues’ courses, books, and other offerings. Tuesday I may be dying of jealousy. The first hour of the workday I may feel secure that I’m following my passion. By lunch I’m Mrs. McDoubtyPants. I haven’t felt like this since I was expecting the girls. It feels like pregnancy.

Even as I type that I know it’s right. It is like pregnancy — all hormones and mood swings and cravings–because something good is about to get born. And I have all of you with me in the birthing room. What a lucky girl I am! (Oh, I am so holding on to that with both hands for when the labor gets tough.)

So there you have it…if you write down the mess, you come to clarity. Without you dear readers, I never would have gotten there. (Thank you for listening to me spout.) I’m in the transition stage of labor now, and I may grab you by the neck and scream, “You! YOU did this to me!” (and then demand jewlery.)  But eventually we’ll hear that first tiny cry of new life and we’ll all just sit around glowing at what we helped get born. Thanks for holding this space for me. You are my very favorite midwives.

See you on the other side!

Much Warmth,

Rachelle

Here at Magpie Girl we like things that nurture the soul. There are not many things that can rock you to your soul’s core like the idea (or the reality) of losing your home. But for many it’s a reality that’s either knocking at your door, or one that’s already made itself at home. So this Monday at Magpie Girl I’m pleased to welcome Stephanie Walker, who’s unexpectedly become an expert in offering soulcare to those who are facing economic crisis. Stephanie blogs at Love in the Time of Foreclosure, and offers soulful advice for those who are facing financial crisis. Today she offers us *8Things that will help you turn crisis into opportunity. This value-added post is practical, inspiring, and just down right helpful. May you find companionship for the journey in Stephanie’s words today.

*8 Things that Helped Us
 Turn Our Personal Housing Crisis into an Opportunity
By Stephanie Walker

Last year at this time, our house was on the market, our bank account was negative and my husband Bob and I were both unemployed. Things were not quite going according to plan. The plan, when Bob’s high-paying contract got cut short, was to sell the house, pay off our debts, rent and start over again. We didn’t want to sell our house, but it was the only way out. We were sinking way too fast. We needed a new plan. The new plan, we agreed, was to turn our financial disaster into an opportunity. Somehow. You know, the whole idea of never letting a  good crisis go to waste. Our crisis, we firmly believed, could be an opportunity to reinvent ourselves, to learn, to re-prioritize. A challenge, indeed. But a worthy challenge. We may lose it all, but what we would gain in the process could be something more valuable than any house.

With that new thinking, we moved through our foreclosure story. Yes, it became a foreclosure story. We defaulted on our loan and received the “Notice of Intent to Accelerate” from the bank the week before Christmas 2008. In the end, to make a very long and exciting story short, we ended up selling the house in a short sale, narrowly avoiding foreclosure. We sold 90% of our possessions and moved to the suburbs of Chicago to live with my family. We’ve been here for three months. And in less than a week we will be moving to the San Juan Islands where we will be house-sitting for two years and living rent-free. Yes. From a $5,000 mortgage to rent-free. From Los Angeles, California to an island in the Pacific Northwest.

Here are 8 Things that helped us turn our personal housing crisis into an opportunity

1. Talking: I know, this is easier said than done. But now is not the time to keep your concerns, fears, resentments or pain to yourself.  Talk about how you’re feeling. Share. Be vulnerable. Does this sound trite? Well, it’s not. Bob is not one to automatically share openly his darkest thoughts. But when he did, it helped not only him but me. It was helpful to know what he was struggling with internally so that I could be more patient or give him the space he needed. And he found that saying it out loud lessened the hold these fears had when internalized. Express it and let it go.

2. The pact: Bob and I made a pact with each other to turn our crisis into an opportunity. We promised each other that we would view every hurdle as an opportunity for growth. That this could be the perfect chance for us to learn how to be happy in the face of any circumstance. We promised to be at our best. And to be there for each other. This pact worked because we were both so profoundly committed to it. We understood that without this pact, our chances for happiness were slim. So we respected the pact and held to it. You can make a pact like this with yourself, but I recommend sharing it with another person so that they can help you keep it in existence.

3. Allowing Others In: Of course we were embarrassed about our situation. We felt like dummies. Idiots. Failures. But we trusted that our friends  and family would not judge us as harshly as we were judging ourselves. And we let them in. I’m not saying we showed them our budgets or our credit report. But we did tell them what was happening along the way. We told our friends and family and eventually our neighbors. And then I started writing about everything on “Love in the time of Foreclosure.” We held nothing back.

When our bank account was overdrawn, they brought us homemade lasagna. When I was stressed, they took me out for happy hour. When we just needed to talk, they listened. When we had our estate sale, they were there first thing in the morning running the show. Our friends were amazing. Amazing. The best part about allowing them in on our financial problems, we didn’t have to pretend anything. I don’t know how we would have been able to actually hide our financial disaster, but I can imagine how stressful that would have been. This one requires letting go of your pride. To let others in means to truly be vulnerable. To say, like we did, We screwed up and are in big financial trouble. This is what’s going on. We’re committed to turning this into a good thing some how. We let them into our lives and into our “plan.”

A huge benefit to allowing others in? They have really good advice. Things you wouldn’t think of on your own, necessarily. They send you links to articles that have a wealth of information you need. They put you in touch with people who can help. They share their own stories about their tough times that not only allows you to feel better, but give you hope that if they made it through, you will too.

4. Have Fun: Just because you are facing losing everything, doesn’t mean you can’t have fun. This is so important. Yes, we were working our butts off. I had two jobs at one point. We were doing everything we could think of to market the house which included constant cleaning. We didn’t have discretionary funds. But we still had fun. We went for walks. Discovered new parks. Bob competed in the Grilled Cheese Invitational . We watched shows on Hulu. We went to the beach. Hiked in the mountains. Sat by the fire. Had friends over. We had fun. We were committed to being happy even in foreclosure. In this kind of a pact, fun is a key ingredient.

5. Exercise: I am prone to anxiety. When I was a kid I used to think I had a breathing problem. At  least that’s what I would tell my parents when it felt like my lungs were incapable of fully expanding: “I think I have a breathing problem.” Well, I discovered that ‘breathing problem’ was actually anxiety. The best cure for anxiety – in my experience- is exercise. It’s hard because the more stressed I get, the less time I have for exercise. But if I don’t, I am only setting myself up for anxiety. Exercise helped me so much through one of the most stressful times of my life.

6. Daily Checkpoints: Every morning when we walked the Pug we would talk about what we would do that day. What we were committed to accomplishing and what we were going to work on personally. Some days I’d wake up so overwhelmed I didn’t want to have this conversation. Luckily on those days, Bob was on the other side (and vice versa.) He would talk me through it. We’d start with ‘clearing out the cobwebs’ before we would talk about our goals for the day. Then, at the end of the day we would recap. How did it go? Did we do what we said we would do? If not, what was in the way? What did we learn and what can we be grateful for? This might sound like it would require a very long conversation, but we were actually able to go through this in about ten minutes. The days we did this always went better than the ones we didn’t. You can create a pact, a vision statement so to speak, but it doesn’t live on its own. It requires constant re-presencing or it will die. Our pact to be our best, turn this crisis into the opportunity of our lives and be happy in the process needed daily care to thrive.

7. Make a Difference for Others: Have you ever noticed that when you have your attention on the well-being of others, you’re less worried about yourself? Well, I have. Bob and I met doing a 500-mile bike ride for charity. On that ride we both talked about how much easier the ride was when we were cheering others on. We’d be at the top of a hill before we realized how difficult the climb was when we were cheering other riders up the hill. The same is true in life. We’re all in this together. And there are so many with great need. In the midst of our foreclosure battle, we collected donations and went on a bus trip down to Mexico to visit an orphanage with a non-profit organization Corazon de Vida. Getting outside of ourselves and focusing on others made such a huge difference. It really puts things in perspective!

8. Believe: (insert cliche here.) I don’t know how to bring this point home without sounding completely cliche. But in the midst of a crisis, you must believe. Believe in your own strength to pull through. Believe that things will improve. Believe that you’ll be stronger for surviving. Believe that you are not alone. I voted for Barack Obama. I was inspired – and still am- by his stand for humanity. By his willingness to stand for and speak about belief and the power it holds. As he said during his campaign: “I’m asking you to believe. Not just in my ability to bring about change in Washington… I’m asking you to believe in yours.”

Read more of Stephanie and Bob’s inspiring story at Love in the Time of Foreclosure. And if you’re selling a house, watch for Pam Weinert (Stephanie’s mom) as she offers real estate advice on Wednesdays at LITTOF. (So helpful! )