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)

friends by dissociation

When I first logged on to the wonderful world of social networking via facebook, twitter, and an incomplete linkedin account- I felt as if my hip factor multiplied exponentially. Everyday was a new friend request, an added follower, and an opportunity to catch up with people I haven't spoken to in decades. DECADES! In a matter of months- I'd gone from having 5 friends to an astronomical 472. Without thinking twice- I racked up a slew of acquaintances, friends of friends, and became rather chummy with a handful of high school students. (I can't help it if my daughter's friends find me fascinating!) Admittedly, I enjoy updating "what's on my mind?", melt when I see family photos, and have had fascinating IM chats with people all over the world. For a girl who thought her friend making days were over- this virtual opportunity at "getting to know you" without the hint of an awkward conversation or a forced air kiss is absolutely delightful.

But let's face it- there is a downside to letting 400 people you barely know into your life. I've actually run into FB "friends" at weddings and street corners and without so much as a glance or even a faux 'hello'- we continue to remain as anonymous in person as we do online. So, the question is...how many friends do I have? Well, I'm glad to report that it's more than 5 but much, much less than 500. It's been rather lovely getting reacquainted with old acquaintances whom I'm certain we'd exchange more than a fake kiss and a forced smile. As for the rest...I suppose that's who the delete button and privacy settings were made for. And you- who's got your back? Do tell...

i got a feelin'....

I recently returned from a very short but much needed 4 day trip back east. As the plane landed, my husband lifted the shade to reveal a dark, rainy, miserable day- from which I beamed a smile that only the sight of the Parkway, my best friends, and my entire family could induce. Home at last! As we stepped off the plane, my husband and I tried to keep pace with thousands of over zealous travelers who darted and weaved in and out of airport rest rooms, restaurants, and on and off those godforsaken travelators. And though I was tempted to get right back into the Jersey swing of things- I thought to myself, "What's the rush?" Surely, I was in no hurry for this vacation to end or to text my tearful good-byes, and certainly, I was in no rush to rush back to Hawaii. So, with a deep breath- I vowed to soak it all in. (both the rain AND the memories)

As predicted- the trip was a whirlwind. Many vodka crans downed, plenty of babies kissed, and all too many moments wishing it would never end. Like dinner at Komegashi with my BFF's, a cousin brunch filled with laughter and longanisa, a beautiful, heartfelt wedding in the middle of a storm, cocktails with my siblings, and a quick trip into Chinatown for some Wonton Garden. Most people are perplexed, even downright annoyed that I'd even consider trading in the sunny, blue skies of Hawaii in exchange for life in the armpit of America (that's right- Jersey, baby!) but truthfully, at least for me- it's not always about location, location, location. And you- where does your heart pull you? Do tell...