Welcome to 2016

The last several days my Timehop has replayed messages from years past where I exclaim to the world that what I just had was the best birthday ever — hands down. It’s surprising. The near dormant snark-a-holic in me still rolls her eyes and says, “They can’t ALL have been that great.” But, you know what? My 40th birthday was SO COMPLETELY GREAT. A big part of the greatness is the endless stream of texts, phone calls and social media posts congratulating me on another ride around the sun. They might say “Happy Birthday” but how my brain interprets is “You are neat!” and “I love you so very much!” or whatever is appropriate depending on the author. Then my heart sends that sweet vibration back to their heart so I get to be loved and give love, even if only in a blink. Those hundreds of blinks add up, though, and this year’s digital birthday was so very blinky. Twinkly, even.

The offline birthday was even more delightful. My kids were home in the morning. I counseled a client later that day then had sushi with a dear friend. Another friend gifted me an evening in the Plaza District where I hugged plenty, kissed many and experienced lotsa merriment. I wore a new dress and a traveling tiara. I laughed and laughed and laughed. It was a fucking great birthday.

So here we are at the Monday after the New Year — the real MVP. It’s when the majority of us go back to work and school. It’s when even the stragglers look at that lingering holiday pie in the fridge, sigh, and realize that it’s long past time to consider pie a proper breakfast. Some make resolutions, others make goals. The bristly non-conformists roll their eyes and denounce all of the above but I have to imagine even they clear their throats, straighten their invisible ties and greet the fresh year in their own way.

I’ve made resolutions in years past and they worked. This year I’ve a list of goals to enhance my professional success and keep me who I am in my personal life (but with a whisper of betterment). Sitting here, trying to shift out of the holiday mode and into the solid path of 2016, I know what I want more than anything else. What I want is more of in 2016 is that great, twinkly love. I wanna give it, I wanna get it. Let’s do this new year thing, y’all. <3

The worship of women



When I read this Danielle LaPorte Truthbomb in my email this morning I was all, “Hell yes! Worrrrrship meeeeee.” Maybe my instinct said the world needs to take my goddess-like, sexual self into heightened awareness? But after the flash of ego burned off I sat on the edge of my bed, blinking at my phone and thought about worship.

What would the worship of women look like?

Here were my immediate thoughts in no particular order:

  • Heightened awareness of our goddess-like, sexual selves (of course)
  • Pay equality
  • The acknowledgement that a woman’s body is her domain to rule. It is not for any of the following to rule: legislators, spouses, strangers, employers, clergy, partners, or anyone else….period. 
  • Awe and adoration of the gorgeous bodies we all walk around in. You know what’s endlessly fascinating about women? The lanky limbs of the skinny, the soft and pliable wrinkles of the old, billowy curves and bumps of the overweight, itty bitties as well as big ‘ole boobies, piercing eyes, crow’s feet, jiggles, muscles, gray or curly or blue hair, bald heads, freckled or ivory or deep brown or mottled or flawless or tattooed skin, chubby or hairy or claw-lookin’ toes, or any of the million variations of what a woman is and can be. All of it is precious and fascinating and all of it deserves the world’s worship.
  • Respect in the mirror, every time. 

I’m hereby assigning this worship to all the humans, regardless of sex. Enjoy your homework because when the worship is fully underway, there’s gonna be some pretty confident, grounded and loving women roaming the planet. A rising tide lifts all boats and I get giddy at the thought of three generations of worshiped women living on the planet at the same time. Or five. Let’s max this out. 

So here’s my question: What would the worship of women look like to you?


Choosing the Mighty Life

For about a year I’ve been thinking about pursuing life coach training, a path to which I seem pretty drawn, but I just can’t seem to make the commitment. There are a lot of programs out there that provide various depths of education and range from a 2-day weekend seminar all the way up to a 4-year degree and beyond. I already have one of those 4-year degrees and wasn’t eager to embark upon that massive feat, nor did I see the value in traipsing to a 2-day seminar to hand over my money in exchange for some official designation as a Life Coach. 

If you are anywhere near responsible for coaching lives, it should take more than a seminar. 

So, to procrastinate in my classic pattern, I bought books. For a year I bought books. And I even read most of them. They are books I was and still am excited about. Loving What Is by Byron Katie. The Power of Now and A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle. This was in addition to all my Brene Brown work. And I told myself that once I got through 4 specific Martha Beck books that were pre-requirements for enrolling in her training, that’d I’d enroll. That was the training that my own life coach completed before she began practicing. Good enough for her, good enough for me. 

Except I haven’t finished the Martha books and didn’t enroll in her perfectly lovely training. It never felt all the way right. There were no signs. 

About 10 days ago I got a clear-as-a-bell sign. Or series of them, if you will. 

Lately I’ve been downright obsessed with a dating app called Tinder. My friends have, too. We have been meeting guys and whatnot–lots of matches. Lots of mismatches. Lots of creepers. Lots of amazeball guys. Several instances of bad timing. But, all in all, it’s been fun and a nice little crutch for this lady as she entered the dating world from a long break. However, I recently claimed I was shutting it all down — it was just too distracting. Too frustrating. The bad was outweighing the good. 

Then I matched with This One Guy from Tulsa. His profile caught my attention because, unlike the majority of the hundreds of profiles I’d scanned before his, he actually seemed like a happy guy. What struck me in particular was the phrase, “I live an incredible life”. When he introduced himself and started interviewing me he asked why my profile said, “Advisor to many and love figuring out how to hep people live more fully, myself included.” I told him about Brene Brown and Eckhart Tolle and my many epiphanies. 

Soon he mentioned he had just completed about a year of life coach training. 

I honest-to-god gasped at my phone. Then my soul giggled that deep, knowing kind of chuckle when I realize I’ve stumbled onto something important. 

The next day I began googling all of the things and discovered that his school was in San Francisco. For those playing along, I am psychotically in love with the Bay Area. I also learned that the program is 10 weekend sessions over the course of 9 months with lots of reading and peer calls in between. For those playing along, I love people. In-person people. See up there at the top of my blog where it talks about the people? 

The tuition was a lot less but with plane tickets, it’s going to be about the same as Martha’s program. 

But with real-life people! And in San Francisco! I could revolutionize my heart and gain professional training on something I naturally practice every day with friends in view of the Golden Gate Bridge. No shit. I had no idea such a place existed.

The Universe finally got my attention for a coaching program by delivering it to me via a hot guy then placed it in San Francisco. I call these little serendipitous elements, Trail Markers. Sheri, you’re on the right path. See? I marked the trail with things you pay attention to just to be sure you see what I see. It suddenly seemed like a no-brainer. 

Except I wasn’t sure how the money would work out. Of course Fear had to make an appearance. 

I hemmed. I hawed. I flipped and flipped through my calendar. I scoured their website. I made phone calls and texted Team Sheri. To one friend I said, “I should be a life coach, right? I’m not just imagining this?” To which this person replied, 

I believe your life experiences have led you to become a person who sees life in a way most people don’t. You’ve helped get my head together, and over the last two years you’ve been unbelievably patient with me as I’ve banged my head against the same wall over and over. You never passed judgement on me. You only offered sympathy and objective advice whether it was something I wanted to hear or not. You led the proverbial horse to water and sat patiently until I decided to drink. You’ve been my life-coach for the last two years, so yes, I think it’s something you should pursue.

The money will sort itself out, it always does. The time investment will sort itself out, too.

In October I board a plane bound for my favorite city. I’m enrolled in a SCHOOL FOR FEELINGS!

It’s like Camp Mighty once a month! But with more heart work and less palm trees.  And probably not a pool. I was bummed when I learned that Camp Mighty was discontinued but now that turn of events is just another Trail Marker.


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