What do you believe in? From the religious to the silly, to the must-have’s and the oh-please’s… Simplified, significant, sweet or straight-forward… Finish the sentence in the comments. And you can answer as many times as you want.
I believe in __________________.
I’ll go first.
I believe in love. Still.
I believe in the importance of amazing friends.
I believe in good coffee.
I believe in the power of telling a story through a photograph.
I believe in making wishes.
Your turn.
It took a while but I finally put all those things away. The things that reminded me of him. Of us. I put them in a box and inched it up on a shelf, standing barefooted and on tip-toes, pushing the memories of him and I up out of reach; finally out of sight from every day glances.
I should have thrown them away – those little nothings that I still hold onto – rather than put them somewhere for me to stumble upon on some unsuspecting day. But something about them – something about him – keeps me hostage and I find myself hanging on still.
I can’t seem to let go of what could have been; the proof in that box up in the closet – rather than the dumpster – and I make a promise to myself that I won’t sift through the sadness and buy into the blissfully blind beginnings that are captured in there but instead learn from them. They are tangible pieces of a time that was never real – as though I’d dreamt of the sea only to wake up smelling of the ocean; a mirage so vivid that on some days I still can’t discern whether it ever actually happened or not.
Where pictures of Then were once pinned against the wall, new squared photographs of memories with no bitter aftertastes now stare back at me from behind my computer; symbolic four-by-four inch infomercials promising happier outcomes are possible! But I shrug at them dejectedly. Gorgeous sunsets and significant places, my favorite things in snapshots, and my face falls, defeated. Because it’s not the same. It’s not then. It’s not there. It’s not him. It’s not now.
It’s over.
I’ll be honest: I clearly had no idea what I was getting into when I threw out the Operation Eleanor 30 Day Challenge. And that’s probably a good thing because had I any idea of how hard those thirty days would be, I don’t know that I would have had the courage to take them on. But then, that’s kind of the whole idea of OpEleanor now isn’t it?
Eleanor Roosevelt said, “Do one thing every day that scares you.” And I was tired of living in fear. Tired of taking the easy way out. Tired of not trying new things and avoiding the more difficult scenarios in life if there was a way to duck out. So it was on. I was going to do this. Bring it, Eleanor.
Then I casually threw out the challenge to you. And to my surprise, you showed up and you did so in a big way. Suddenly this personal little challenge became something more; something very meaningful to not just me – but to many – and it took on a life of its own. Wildly inspiring #OpEleanor tweets were coming and going, courageous blog posts and ping-backs were floating around, motivational quotes were everywhere, and, best yet, a small community of people sprouted, encouraging and congratulating one another on accomplishments big and small.
And while it may have started with an inspirational quote by Ms. Roosevelt, in the end, it was you who gave me courage, made me rethink what I did, kept me going when I wanted to hesitate and got me through thirty amazingly terrifying yet liberating days.
So, thank you. More than you’ll ever know.
In the month of November, I:
asked for help from family
applied for jobs
confronted someone who had hurt me
got back to baking fondant cakes
returned to the bank where my sister was held-up
stuck-it-out though an evening I desperately wanted to flee
flew on an airplane
took a trip on tight budget and stuck to it
jumped a fence at a brewery to get a photo I really wanted
asked for assistance from a stranger
admitted a humbling truth to myself
said everything without holding back in case it was my only chance to do so
talked about the skeletons in my closet
got out of bed and faced a horrible reality
networked with friends
said the things you’re not supposed to say out loud on my blog
held my ground even when I didn’t want to
got over my fear of doing holiday cards & took the boys’ photographs
stopped avoiding my friends who cared and sat down & talked with them again
let the boys go to Disneyland with my parents without me
sent a total shot-in-the-dark email for something I desperately wanted
finally moved my blog to wordpress, without worrying about losing 4+ yrs of posts
started MMA classes for me
tackled a touchy topic with family
went on my 1st job interview in forever
faced the infamous Hill in MMA – the only girl – and didn’t quit
returned the stuff I bought for a trip that was, apparently, never meant to be
agreed to run a Ragnar marathon in October – a bucket list item!
let someone back into my life
‘blegged’ for a good cause
did bench presses at MMA – a huge fear of mine because of my aneurysm
went out with new people instead of waiting around for someone else to not show
cooked my own Thanksgiving dinner for the first time ever
faced my ex-extended family for the 1st time in over a year
had a frank conversation with a friend, realizing it’s “gut-check time”
set boundaries and stuck to them
rehearsed what I need to say, even though I wish I didn’t have to say it
applied for my passport
finally asked the name of someone I speak to every day
decided I have nothing left to say to someone who can’t hear it anyway
started xmas shopping even though I am having a hard time getting in the spirit
pushed myself harder than ever physically
inquiring minds asked a friend to find out more
put my own ideas out there with enthusiasm and confidence
What’s weird is that prior to November 1st, I had made a list of a few ideas for fears I could attempt to tackle during OpEleanor. But you know what? Almost none of them made this list of what I accomplished because, as it turns out, life had its own challenges planned for me. I still haven’t learned to ride a bike (soon!) and I didn’t go out to lunch by myself just because and I still have never had Thai food or tried a Zumba class. But this is the lesson, at least for me, in all this. This, is life. You don’t get to pick what scares you; what challenges you on a daily basis. But you do have the ability to pick and choose how you handle those fears. And I know for me, this Operation Eleanor 30 Day Challenge will forever change the way I make decisions. I can no longer hesitate and go the other way; instead I pause and a voice inside my head taunts me “Yeah but… OpEleanor!” And there we go, it’s on. All over again.
Thank you, Eleanor.
If you follow me on The Twitter you might have noticed that I got all philanthropist on you lately in the name of an organization called Feeding America which is doing ridiculously amazing things to help feed families in America. I came across them in Real Simple magazine and while the cause is worthy all on its own, what really struck me was how such a small donation could have such a profound effect on so many.
A $1 donation will help feed 8 families. Eight.
Then I read some of the sickening facts on hunger in America on their site. It was startling. I looked up my local food bank in my area (you can too on the website) and saw just how many pounds of food per year – more than 16 million in my supposedly cozy suburban So. Cal community – are being served thanks to Feeding America and its partners.
Knowing what I know now, I couldn’t not donate.
I have a hard enough time explaining to my boys each year why we donate toys to Toys For Tots and Spark of Love. Why there are some kids who wake up on Christmas morning and don’t have gifts – nevermind families who don’t have food to eat… Right here in our own community. Right here in America.
So today, as we sit down with our families on Thanksgiving, thankful for all we have today and everyday, I’m going to urge you to consider donating $5 to Feeding America so that 40 families who don’t have enough food to eat on any given day, let alone a feast on Thanksgiving, might have something to eat tomorrow because of your generosity.
If just 5 of you donated $5 to Feeding America, that would equal 200 meals for families.
If 20 of you donated $5 to Feeding America that would equal 800 meals for families.
I understand money is tight for so many this year. It’s no different for me. But I know that I can give up a venti holiday drink at Starbucks one time and there is my $5 donation.
To up the ante, I am going to give away a $25 my good friend Emmie and I are giving away a $50 Starbucks gift card to one random person who donates to Feeding America between now and this Sunday, November 27, 2011 ending at 9:00 pm PST. For every $5 donation you make to Feeding America, please leave one comment on this post as an entry. (For example, for a $20 donation, please leave 4 separate comments, etc.)
Please be sure to also visit the fabulous Jett Superior who is my partner-in-crime in this giveaway-goodness, hosting a giveaway all her own on her blog in the name of this fantastic cause.
If you decide to also blog about this cause or if you do a giveaway, please link up below. You can follow Feeding America on Twitter here, following along and re-tweeting by using the hashtag #giveameal.
And if you and your family need help this year, that’s what Feeding America is for. You can find out how they can help you here.
Wishing you a very happy Thanksgiving.
{Megan}
__________
UPDATED:
First, a huge thank you to everyone who donated, shared this post, tweeted/re-tweeted, Facebooked and more… Remember that Feeding America needs donations year-round, not just Thanksgiving time, so if you’re looking for worthy causes to support, check them out.
Just from the comments on this post, we surpassed my goal of donating enough money to provide 4,000 meals… donating $530 which provides 4,240 meals to hungry families in America. Additionally, people have tweeted and emailed me without commenting, so who knows just how much we’ve really accomplished. I do know one blogger, who wishes to remain anonymous, donated $700 though her company who then matched her donation ($1400), providing another 11,200 meals alone. Donations big and small, they all count so thank you so much.
I used Random.org to find a winner of the $50 Starbucks gift card…
And the winner is…
Congrats Nicole Elizabeth!
And thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who was so very generous!
“I believe anyone can conquer fear by doing the things he fears to do, provided he keeps doing them until he gets a record of successful experience behind him.” -Eleanor Roosevelt
Have you googled Eleanor Roosevelt quotes? Take two minutes to read through just a few of the great things that woman said (nevermind the amazing things she did) and you will understand why she’s our muse for Operation Eleanor – hence the name. Very inspiring to say the least.
And speaking of which, here we are now at the halfway point (how many of you are both breathing a sigh of relief like YES! HALFWAY! while also thinking DAMN! ONLY HALFWAY?!) through Operation Eleanor and I have to say what started as a mere whim of an idea has grown to be so much bigger and greater than I ever imagined. I never thought it would be more than a personal project for me but now that all of you are on board and blogging, tweeting, emailing all these truly inspiring victories (and god only knows the accomplishments you’re keeping to yourselves) I find myself more motivated and inspired and encouraged and accountable than ever. And that’s a really good thing.
It’s never too late to join in on the Operation Eleanor journey or to create your own. This is a personal project that everyone has done a little something different with… You don’t have to blog or tweet about it or even publicly declare your participation. This is your thing. But there is a great little group to connect with if you need or want it. (#OpEleanor on Twitter)
Most importantly, you need to know that your success will not lie in accomplishing 30 or 20 or 10 or even 5 specific things along the way. Those are just numbers and goals. The success will be in overcoming your own hesitations and fears, changing the way you think and make decisions about everything from the very serious and heavy to the silly and what-if variety. And there will be times when your success will come from “failing” to succeed at goal A, B, or C because the truth is, just yesterday, you wouldn’t have even attempted it. Your success was in trying. Give yourselves credit, give yourselves breathing room and give yourselves some slack. No one is keeping score, so you shouldn’t be either.
This will probably be the cheesiest thing you’ll ever hear me say on this blog, but I am really proud of all of you. I know how hard this month has been for me and I’ve only heard slivers of your challenges — and I am in awe. Keep going.
I'll admit, for a long time I waited for you to call. I checked my phone for missed calls when I knew it hadn't rang. Because my phone never left my pocket. For weeks I held my breath at the sound of footsteps outside my window even though I knew they weren't yours; I knew better than to think you were coming back. Yet I would close my eyes and wait anyway for the doorbell to not ring. I watched the clock for more minutes, hours, days than I care to confess for your call to never come. For closure, I told myself. But really, I just wanted to hear your voice.
I would have taken you back.
I shouldn't have, but I would have.
I reasoned that you were busy working. You were probably tired. But you probably missed me. Maybe you missed me? Maybe you were thinking of me? Maybe I wasn't out of sight, out of mind. You might not have called that night but the next night? You would. And when you didn't, I was certain you would tomorrow. Because of all the things I knew that I knew, it was that you were better than that.
I was certain you were better than that.
In the wee hours of the morning, when I would finally give in that this night was not the night you were going to come through, I intentionally avoided my own reflection in the mirror knowing I would only see the epitome of pathetic looking back at me.
I couldn't stand to look at me anymore.
Finally, after weeks of that song on repeat, I turned it off. It was like pulling the plug on everything that had sparked life in me for that little while. Lying awake in the dark, the irony still singing, "You. You bring me to my knees in spite of all these lies that I would just love to believe…" The words haunting me.
I wanted to be angry at you. Look at what you had done to me. Look at who I had become. Mad at you for turning me into the girl who sits and waits and watches the phone and looks through the peephole and what the fuck? repeatedly allows herself to be hurt and sad and miserable and chalks it up to 'worth it' just to be with you.
Angry at you for being someone I thought I could trust and open up to, for saying those things – those things you just don't say to a girl unless you mean them – and then disappearing. Furious at you for making me feel so worthwhile and then so worthless – like everything and nothing – in such a short period of time.
But the truth is, I'm just mad at me for loving you, who couldn't love me.
I only deep-clean when I'm angry. And I was angry. Rather than be spending time cleaning out a closet and re-organizing purses, wallets, clothes, shoes and every accessory I own by color, style and length I would have preferred to be seeking revenge. That kind of angry.
It's a damn good thing I chose the closet.
Or so I thought.
Inside that closet I didn't just come face to face with bad fashion choices and ill-fated purchases; I ended up confronting my past. Notes from a marital counseling session found in an old purse. God. My wedding ring which no longer fits. Fitting. The Hawaiian carving from our Maui trip that was supposed to bring us good luck. Right. An entire box of momentos from that trip. We were already having trouble.
I was only trying to clean out the closet.
See? THIS is why I don't clean.
Perched up on one of the shelves sat my old jewelry box which, in reality, became more of a keepsake box, having never been one to wear jewelry, even my wedding ring. I got it down, curious what memories might lie in it. Definitely handmade macaroni bracelets and necklaces from the boys, that much I could count on.
I wasn't prepared for what I saw.
The bracelet my Dad gave me at my eighth grade graduation. The purple bow I wore at Maddie's service. The visitor badges I saved from Big T's plastic surgery. The cigar my Dad and I were supposed to smoke together on his 50th birthday and never got around to it.
And then that tongue depressor my sister made me that night in the ER. Dated and everything.
I started crying. Hard. There, on the floor in my closet I cried out loud, for no one to hear, mascara burning my eyes, letting go of I don't know what.
Everything.
Something.
Anything.
All of it.
So much has been welling up in me the last few weeks and I've complained and joked and rationalized and refused to stop and feel any of it. My past has been haunting me more than usual and in more ways than one and in my typical keep-my-head-up-high demeanor, I've carried on with a la-la-la-I-can't-hear-you-life! attitude.
It catches up with you.
It caught up with me.
People ask why I'm doing this 30 day challenge Operation Eleanor. Some have even suggested I seem so 'fearless' they are curious what my fears could possibly be. The truth is? I'm afraid of everything. Everything. And it's exhausting. It's exhausting to be constantly afraid and it's exhausting to not live the life you want to live because you're too afraid.
It's time for me to get rid of the skeletons in my closet. Or at least face them. And it's harder than I could have ever imagined.
You. I don't even know how to tell you just how proud I am of you. How much I love you. How much you rock.
You are the best kind of friend a person could ask for, the defender of the playground, Mr. Do-Good, an amazing chef, the best assistant, the peacekeeper, happy-go-lucky, gracious and kind, a brilliant artist, a hard worker and so easy to love.
Your smile – the one you were born with and has seemingly never left your face – is infectious and cathartic and it has brought me so much happiness.
You have brought us all so much happiness.
Today is your 7th birthday. I can't believe it. Just yesterday you were all chunky legs and round cheeks and dimples. I hope you never lose those dimples.
You have grown up so much lately and I'm very proud of the little man you've become. While I hate to see the baby version of you disappear so quickly, I love watching you come into your own.
You're an amazing kid who is going to do amazing things. You already have.
Happy birthday dude!
I love you.
{Mom}
Are you ready? It's time to start our little big challenge! Operation Eleanor starts today.
If you're joining me on this adventure, you can already account for one of your 30 things: This. Doing this. Check today off on the calendar.
Be sure to link up below if you're participating and add your twitter handle in the comments. Use and follow the #OpEleanor hashtag on Twitter and Instagram too.
Wishing you a very memorable November.
-Megan
Clearly I'm not one to be motivating anyone else to take this trek if I'm in need of taking it myself, but Mark Twain is. I think. I don't actually know if he's inspiring to you but this quote was like oh-so-fitting so let's just roll with it, ok? Ok! *brisk hand clap*
A lot of people had questions about how the "Do one thing every day that scares you for 30 days" challenge [which we will call Operation Eleanor and hashtag #OpEleanor] works so I thought I'd elaborate.
Here's the thing: there are no rules, no wrong or right ways of doing it so, basically, it's up to you to take the idea and run with it in your own big way.
The things that 'scare' you don't have to be huge things. They can be small moments like saying something to someone you when you would have normally held your tongue. It could be trying a new food you've always crinkled your nose at. It could be having a conversation or introducing yourself to that person you always see at Starbucks every morning. But you can conquer your bigger fears if you're so inclined. Flying? Skydiving? Snowboarding? Whatever.
These 30 things can be moments you consider very much random and blog-worthy or extremely personal and private. They can be serious, gut-wrenching moments or completely silly and irreverent or even better: a mix of the two. Most importantly, they don't need to be planned out. I have no idea what 30 things I will attempt to face in the month of November. Some will require some thought, yes. Others will find me by chance.
I know the mere idea of a whopping *30* things has got a few people shying away from the challenge. Here's the thing: this is YOUR thing. So, while 30 things is the challenge, even if you only overcome one fear, you've made progress. That's one thing you wouldn't have done before so you win.
Whether you decide to blog about it is completely up to you. Maybe it will be too personal, maybe you don't blog, maybe you will want every one of those 30 things accounted for on this here internet… Your call. You can blog as you go or when the month ends. If you do decide to tweet, Instagram, whatever, hashtag your accomplishments with #OpEleanor. Someone asked me about one of those linky-dinky-doo widgets on this blog so I can link everyone who is doing the challenge together. Yeah, let me figure that out. I'd love that.
I'm going to keep a composition notebook for daily notes and I hope to take photos whenever relevant and possible. I plan on coming back to you in the beginning of December and telling you as much I can — what I learned, what I did, what the experience taught me, whether I fell short of my goal, etc. and I'd love to hear what you're willing to share too.
For the next 30 days, "…throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor" as Twain said. Or if Twain isn't your style, this one may suite you better:
For me, this is so very true.
Let's take life by the balls, shall we? Look out, November.
