Love Notes & Chocolate Covered Strawberries:: How to plan your second quarter as a balanced and engaged businesswoman.
It's MOTHERFUCKING April.
Again.
I hate that 2014 (so last year) is still lingering with all those taxes and shit. I wish it didn't eat the first quarter of this year. But it did eat it.
Now is it Q2 and that = time to get my shit together.
Newsflash little bunny:
YOUR BUSINESS DESERVES YOUR ATTENTION.
(Why do we treat our own businesses as second class citizens? )
I am all about BALANCE. I like a little trick with my treat.
I mix intense business planning with pleasure and love notes. IT WORKS.
Some of you will need more planning and some of you are going to need more loving – so get your sharpies ready and go forth.
The planning bit:
- There ain't no magic. You ACTUALLY have to do it. No one is going to make you. Unless you are my client or in one of my groups. Then I'll make you.
- This quarter is APRIL, MAY and JUNE. So download this and then write those months in the handy month boxes.
- This worksheet makes you think about each month in the quarter from a LONG VIEW. It's not for your dentist appointment or for your to-do list.
- Write the month. The choose a PERSONAL theme. Then write three BIZ GOALS. (Optional is to break them down by weeks) . Also, pick a word for the month to keep you GROUNDED and FOCUSED.
Don't know what the hell I am talking about?
PRINT THIS and it will all be clear.
Yeah, ALL of it.
The love note bit:
- For each month that you set goals, write yourself a love note.
- Seal it shut.
- Open it when you need it.
- You are your own best lover.
Don't skimp on the celebration. It's time to make chocolate covered strawberries.
- wash your berries and make sure they are bone dry and room temperature.
- melt chocolate chips incrementally in microwave (stir between small bursts of heat) or with a double boiler.
- dunk berries and place on parchment or wax paper to set in fridge.
- eat at room temp.
YUM.
You are welcome to UNPLUG
In two days 40 people will embark with me to explore the boundaries we do (or don't) have with technology.
We call it UNPLUG 2014. But is is not just about unplugging. It is about intentionally creating more space and time in our lives. Reduce the busy.
Why online? Why in a group?
Accountability.
There is something about doing this together – something that makes me certain I'll show up. Power in numbers.
I'm at war with myself. This constant connection.
This text message, instant message, social media driven pace.
This nothing-happens-unless-there-is-photographic-evidence.
This, my-business-suffers-if-I-don't-show-up, here, online.
This no-one-talks-about-it-anymore-but-it-used-to-be-big-news the relationship between my cell phone and cancer.
This who am without it.
This which we have no idea how to navigate.
It is all so new. So fast. #wevenevereverlivedlikethisbefore
I don't understand it. And neither do you. But we both know, the boundaries move, and we nudge them and shift ourselves and play with these edges.
- Can you wait in line without your phone?
- Can you make it through a walk?
- A meal?
- Do you text while you drive? (Yes, a stoplight is still driving.)
- What about a day without your phone?
- What does that bring up for you?
I'll tell you what, it fucks me. Entirely.
Behind at work, feeling disconnected, anxious. That's why I am here.
What about you? Why are you joining me?
Not signed up yet? Do it HERE.
Supply Ideas. These are supportive ideas ONLY.
There is nothing you NEED to be successful that you don't already have.
- Something to scribble in. I just bought one of these journals.
- Water bottle. I have one of these I use to set my intentions.
- Flower essences. I often make my own, but I really love these.
- Something cozy to wrap and support you. I love bamboo scarves.
I invite you to comment below. Why are you here?
I'll begin.
He/She Said (I Did)
He said my tits were too saggy. (I took off my shirt, looked in the mirror and cried).
I became more beautiful.
She said I would never make enough money. ( I sat up tall and wrote a business plan, and then another).
I became more wealthy.
She said he was too good for the likes of me. (I married him eight years ago and built our life together).
I became love.
He said I would never be able to have children. (I walked away slowly, exhausted by lonely).
I became pregnant, twice.
And I say (I speak this to you, for me):
Believe in truth.
Have deep belief in truth and righteousness and you will #becomegreatness.
she said I love you mama.
he said you've built and amazing company.
he said there need to be more people doing what you are doing.
she said within 20 minutes I was calm and present.
she said you maintain it with all that life throws at you.
she said this is made for you
she said well, you make a rad pancake
she said you are the best at monies!
she said your bomb-ass post just made me lol
she said this is complete and total love.
she said Hannah, just amazing.
she said you are complete and total love.
she said this is so healing
she said just wow.
she said you are wildly creative and I love this
she said beautiful
New Moon Intentions – Proclaim that shit.
Set it and don't forget it. (Your intentions for the month.)
You can't come running to me and tell me you didn't get what you wanted if you don't PICK and CHOOSE.
Go ahead, identify THREE THINGS (points for listing them below) that you want to do this month.
Don't know? Maybe you need to book a session and deal with your priorities.
With love and a kick in the pants,
Hannah
It Is Worth It: So Many Things About Sadness
It is worth writing about sadness.
I am not very good at sadness. I'm not skilled at it.
- I can ignore it so fully that I truly that I don't know it is there.
- I can sense it and turn away, rush forward, DO something, instead of just being with it.
- I can suppress it so long that it becomes something else.
Mostly it's the fear that manifests.
But so it is with most things. It is our feeling of fear that bubbles up. That manifests. That reminds us, it's not all okay.
She comes to some in night times.
Me, she visits on hot, beautiful, clear sparkly days.
- Whispering to my friend that she couldn't nurse her baby.
- Whispering to my grandmother about her own death.
- Whispering to me about tomorrow.
What does fear whisper to you? (Click to Tweet)
But peeling. Ever deeper. Reaching below the fear to scratch and sniff and see, what's there?
This fear, it reminds me:
Hello, sadness on beautiful days.
And shoulds.
Oh the shoulds.
I Could Write Like Her If
If my phone would stop fucking ringing.
If my kids stopped needing to eat.
If every time I opened my computer the dog didn't have to take a shit.
If I could just commit.
If my mother wasn't already a writer.
If my father wasn't already a writer.
If my mother didn't hate poetry.
If my best friend didn't have a book deal.
If the laundry would fold itself.
If there was no such thing as Facebook. Or Twitter. Or the whole fucking internet.
If I knew someone was reading.
If I didn't have to make a living.
If I there was a better word than "blog."
If everything wasn't about content.
If I didn't care what you thought.
If I stopped trying so hard.
If I just gave in.
If I could focus harder.
If I could smile more.
If I gave a shit.
If books were real things that you carried around with a cover that no one swapped out for marketing purposes and you, reader, dog eared the pages. And wrote your name in it. And lent it to your friend, by mailing it to her, halfway across the country, because it mattered. That much.
I would write for you then.
So This Redhead Marries This Girl
So this redhead marries this girl. . .
She is darker- skinned and brown-haired and he hopes that his kids won't inherit the "curse."
By that, he means the ability to sunburn if he even looks out the window.
Well, he's my husband. And we did indeed make two babies and. . .Did it work?
The first one we've tested a bit. And she will survive. She may appear fair, but she has those yellow undertones that means she has yet to burn. Still, part of that is because I slather her with sunscreen. I went all EWG and tried some of least horrendous. (My husband, having been slathered his whole life, hates sunscreen of any type. All he will use is bullfrog gel. I won't let my kids near that stuff. But with hubs, well, I choose my battles. And make him carry his own sunscreen.)
For the rest of us (me, my daughter and my son) we get one tube.
There is NO WAY everyone gets their own sunscreen.
Too much crap in my bag/stroller/car/purse.
Here is what we have tried:
1) Badger Balm - Um, it smells like peanut butter? No. Just, no. Next.
2) California Baby - Love it. But $22 bucks a tube? One tube a week in the summer...no fucking way is this "sustainable." At least not for my wallet.
3) That cheaper pink option everyone likes. BabyGanics? I don't know. It was crap. Like completely useless, shaving cream consistency crap. And literally NO sun protection.
4) Then, Block Island Organics said HEY! Try our stuff! And I was like: "Wait, my family lives on Block Island!" Worth a shot. Maybe it is a sign. Maybe I can find something that works and doesn't leave me for poor.
And...the results are in and it is good! We've tried Block Island Organics in the bright, strong spring sun and NO BURNS! Not even on the little dude! It is unscented, which is great. And i can spread it all over my kids' faces with no streaks!
This summer we test kid two. Will he have the redhead curse? Or will he be soooo protected by Block Island Organics that we won't be able to tell?
So, in order to SPREAD the LOVE. Block Island Organics is giving my
sun-warrior readers
a coupon code good today thru 5/12. Go forth my flock. Buy sunscreen. Use code hannah at check out. And show them some love on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram or Pinterest.
And now. Me and my kids and my sunscreen are going to go sit our butts in the yard. Protected.
Things That Are (Good, Shitty, Neither, Etc)
- This tank top. Some days, man. Right???
- Big shot out to Linda Wojick. A skype session with her is some amazing healing. Working with a nutritional kinesiologist and spiritual intuitive is far out. But for real, even for a jaded, non- believing New Yorker, like me.
- And a bra. (Yes, again). This is a nursing bra that converts into a regular bra. Wire free. I am a big fan. And by big. . . I don't wanna talk about it.
- Did you ever need someone to give you PERMISSION? Check out this online community course from a woman named Mara. Starts May 12th and I doubt you want to miss it.
That is all for this week. Go play. Put down your tech and connect around you.
6 THINGS TO REMEMBER THIS WEEKEND:
- Eat food.
- Drink water.
- Touch the earth.
- Smile at people.
- Be a badass.
- Love something.
I Need More
Sometimes I need more self care than other times. Is it hormonal? Astrological?
Also, #selfcare didn't really used to be a thing, a buzzword. There was "me time" and "down time" there were just normal freaking people who read books and painted their nails and took showers and ate healthy and that wasn't some special #iterativeliving thing. It was just life.
But back to me...There are times in my life where I don't have to be as protective of my sleep. When I can work late and get up early and be happy. (This isn't one of them.)
There are times in my life where I can survive without eating breakfast. (This isn't one of them.)
There are times in my life where I can plan weeks in advance. When I can see clearly, long distance. (This isn't one of them.)
There are times in my life where I feel connected and grounded and thoughtful and clear. (This isn't one of them.)
But right now - in order to be a good mom, and a good wife, and a good friend, and a good coach, and a good person - I need to sleep, eat, read, and do less. Maybe the #busy caught up with me. Maybe breastfeeding is exhausting.
Maybe maybe maybe, baby.
You know what you need if you stop long enough to listen. (Click to Tweet)
Call it self care, call it indulgent, call is necessary, call it spoiled. Sometime it's just survival. Like when you can't go on any other way.
Just remember this: Take care of yourself when you need to.
Why Mothering Permits Me To Be Only a Pseudo Intellectual
When I have time to read a book, I read a shitty one. One that doesn't utilize any of my (former?) intellectual prowess. In my down time my brain turns into a big stinking pile of mush.
I have two kids and it is wonderful and mind-numbing and inspiring and brutal.
I miss my life. I miss by brain. I miss my husband. I miss my work. Yes. I still get to all of those things. But, god, remember when you could stay up all night and work on something? I can't. If I do (and I have) my next day(s) are brutal. It is just not worth it and OH man I am sad about that. I covet you - you stay-up-all-night-and-create-amazing-works-of-art people.
There. There I am. That complaining mom. Who only has lots of little slivers and no BIG chunk. I am spread thin. And I am complaining and YET. AND YET. I chose this. And, you know what? I choose it again, day after day. I am not willing to give up anything that I love, even if it means I am spread thin.
I know you've heard this before, but we only live once. Motherfucker, even this moment is close to over. So if there is something you want, TAKE IT. Maybe you can drown in it and roll around in it and languish in it. But stick your toe in. Half-ass it if you must. Keep trying.