someone told...

For over a year now- I've been fortunate enough to share a part of my life with you thanks to this blog. Outlets are overwhelmingly therapeutic whether they're creative ones, a shoulder to cry on, or a sympathetic ear because let's face it- in one way or another- we all need to be heard. As many (well, okay 17) of you know- I always end my little anecdotes with a "do tell" and much to my surprise someone did tell and not only that- they need advice. And you know me- glad to be of assistance! And you...do you have any burning questions on improving your lifestyle, making healthy changes, or feeling stuck these days? Do tell...at modernmalama@gmail.com


dear modern malama,

I've decided to leave my job (seriously, I resigned on Monday) and wonder what my next move is? With 2 young kids, I struggle with wanting to be there for them, but also knowing I need the outlet of a job to keep me sane. How do working mothers do it? How do you balance the responsibilities of being a mother, wife, while also keeping your identity as your own person? Signed, Wanting it all


dearest wanting it all, 


Ahhhh, that tricky thing we call balance. As women (the natural multi-taskers) we're accustomed to being many things to many different people. Where it gets oh so sticky is when we want to excel at the office, bake homemade chocolate chip cookies with our kids, and muster the energy to show affection to our husbands. But in the midst of taking care of everyone else's boo-boo's, deadlines, and libido's- it's no wonder you wonder about what's next. Truthfully, when was the last time you put yourself first? Maintaining your own identity is a very personal journey that only you know the answers to. Aside from  family and a fat bonus at work - what makes YOU happy? Working out, cooking in the nude (hey, people are strange!), fly fishing? Whatever it is...write it down. Notice the energy shift in your body when you focus on things YOU like to do and by God woman- DO THEM!! And do it knowing that imbalance comes when we, the natural multi-taskers, don't factor our needs into the equation. And yes- this may mean the occasional Betty Crocker cake mix, less time watching American Idol, and more time investing energy into the things that invigorate you-both personally and professionally. And don't be surprised at how fabulous you feel when you finally put yourself first...at last!! 


all my love, MM 

let's get it on...

A few years ago I resigned from yet another fruitless job. A notorious cubicle jumper- my 4 page checkered resume is a testament to that. I suppose it has a lot to do with a phobia of long term commitments and feeling stuck doing something I loathe rather than something I love. And yes, I agree- loathe is a strong word for someone in the helping profession but let's face it...I'm no aspiring Florence Nightingale here. But in the midst of all this job jumping- I have learned a thing or two about the importance of pursuing your dreams. One of the best pieces of advice I got was during an exit interview with a former boss. As I rambled on about what an honor it was to work for the company and profusely apologized for leaving, he simply said- "leslie- you've got to do what turns you on." Turns me on? I had no clue.

Turns out, he was absolutely right. Going from one position to another, in search of the next title, or higher salary wasn't exactly a formula for success. So instead of wasting time and energy on the insignificant things like another unfulfilling career move or commiserating with office intel on the latest gossip...I started doing things that turned me on. I read more, I write much much more, and I'm very merry (or at least I try)- every single chance I get. Because when you're in hot pursuit of the things that fill you up and give you life- it's bound to be labor, that's love. And you...what turns you on? Do tell...

mothers intuition...

After 15 years together it's rare that my husband and I agree on much except for Top Chef, my occasional interest in Sports Nation, and a shared passion for good parenting.  I'll never forget the day he got a Jerry Maguire look in his eyes as he watched our daughter throw a ball across the room. What was purely good hand/eye coordination for a 3 year old somehow took us much further than we ever imagined. The day things changed for me came a few years later at a Junior Olympics volleyball tournament in Chicago. Our coach- a rough around the edges, no nonsense Italian drilled work ethic and excellence to a bunch of 10 year olds without a lick of concern for feelings, emotions, and/or hormones. And though I often shudder thinking about his abrasive tone and look of disgust after a loss- I do give him credit for one thing. In the middle of berating players and parents after a lousy performance in the Windy City, he turned to me and said, "Here's the thing about Carsen- she's a typical blue chip player." Caught off guard- I immediately thought, 'oh my gosh- is that a bad thing'? Not only am I not athletic with zero knowledge of sports terminology, but his stoic facial expression didn't give any indication that perhaps this was a compliment. As we bolted out of the gym, I nervously called my husband and asked, "what the hell are blue chips?" After 15 minutes of reassurance and examples of other blue chip players (Jordan, Bryant, Taurasi)- the only thought that occurred to me was- 'Okay- so then she can play college volleyball, right?' My husband- the natural realist and bonafide athlete in the family went into a dissertation I didn't even bother paying attention to. And as for me, the proverbial idealist and lifelong dreamer in the family- I knew that in this moment...I'd never question that thought again.  

Seven years later and in just a few short weeks, our daughter heads off to NC State as a Division 1 student athlete. My days of daydreaming, hours of being held hostage in sweaty gyms, and years of wondering whether we were good enough parents have led us to this moment, and without question- I knew we'd be here someday. And you...what are you absolutely sure of? Do tell...

sharing is caring...

As of this moment- I'm 11 weeks into my B1 training course with 8 weeks separating me from being a Certified Health Coach. To date- I admit...I've become much more grounded, self aware, and best of all...I've learned to appreciate the intricacies of life, particularly my own. Between modern malama, my work as a health coach, and the infinite possibilities that lie ahead- I am hopeful that somehow, in a large or small way- I can make the world we live in a better place. Below you'll find a very uplifting and insightful blog by one of my fellow Health Coaching classmates, Maureen Miller. Enjoy...I know I do.

Be inspirational, people! Do great things!!

http://livinglifemakingchoices.wordpress.com/

always, les

do you know- where you're going to...

Listening to my friends' adventures of backpacking through Europe with little money, no hotel reservations, and a guidebook to lead their way- I found myself thinking about the journeys we take in life. I imagine that my version of a European excursion would involve a backpack (merely for effect), an English speaking tour guide, and a five star hotel complete with a tempurpedic mattress and Egyptian cotton sheets. And though my experience would differ greatly from my very brave friends' whose jaunts  included a night at a countryside hostel in Amsterdam and Ethiopian food in London; it occurred to me that in matters of travel- there's no wrong way to do it, so long as it's your own.

It's natural for me to choose a sense of adventure over good old common sense. A move to Hawaii, marrying my husband, and a mid life career change are proof of that. Luckily I rarely ever wonder about the "what if's?" in life. My journeys have taken me far from the streets of Jersey City to an exotic locale surrounded by an eclectic culture and interesting people. And what I've finally come to realize is whether it's life or travel- there is no wrong way, so long as the path you follow is your own. And you- do you know where you're going to, do you know? Do tell...

sustenance...

Stepping onto the scale this morning, I braced myself for the outcome of two gluttonous months filled with traveling, assorted alcoholic beverages, and pasta's glorious return back into my diet since Lent ended. Looking at my daily calendar, I noticed that I may have occasionally (okay, okay- more like, regularly) slacked on working out, but how in the world did those extra pounds find me so quickly? Determined not to undo months of hard work and effort, I headed straight for my nemesis- the elliptical machine for an intense cardio workout. As I flipped through the New Yorker (some geriatric swiped the US Weekly), sweat dripping, and goal heart rate achieved- I felt invigorated. Finally overcoming weeks of dread and avoidance, I dealt with the fact that scales and skinny jeans rarely ever lie.

Thanks to genetics and my own mother's disdain for physical activity, I remained blissfully sedentary for most of my life. That of course changed when I realized that youth was no longer on my side. (traitor!) Sadly, all the extra weight packed on over the years (both emotionally and physically) wasn't budging, and it was time to do something about it. And while I still indulge in heaping bowls of my husband's home made penne a la vodka and a glass or two of Merlot; nothing feeds your body more than getting physical and unloading all the baggage. And you- how much weight do you carry? Do tell...

it is written...(maktub)

I recently read a wonderful book by Stephen King called, On Writing. In it he asks 2 questions....do you read a lot? (me: NO) Do you write a lot? (me: SOMETIMES) Aside from winning a poetry contest about the Statue of Liberty in 1986 and submitting two random essay's in 2009; in which I won both grand prizes (stand up paddle lessons and attendance to the Hawaii Writer's Conference)- I've never taken any formal writing courses or imagined where my writing could take me. Sure, I've got my blog and a few published pieces under my belt thanks to Modern Luxury- but so what? No God loving, responsible Filipina gives up a healthcare career to be a writer. "Leslie, writing is a hobby- not a profession", says my disapproving conscience. And just like that- I steer clear of any natural inclination.

If you ask me what my life's ambition is, I'd tell you that I want to get paid for being myself. And with that comes flailing hand gestures, over exaggerated facial expressions, and a knack for telling stories in person and on paper. I enjoy studying people's behaviors and understanding what makes them tick, which according to Mr. King, makes me a good writer. (or at least, a competent one) So why haven't I won any awards in nursing? And why is a substantial amount of money needed for me to show up to work everyday? Well...ignoring your instincts will do that. You know, steer you clear from natural talent and inclinations, and all. And you...what are you ignoring? Do tell...

(photo cred: Carlo Guzman @ www.ag2photography.com)