Despite the Odds: Wisdom from my potted plant.

INSPIRATION : "a divine influence or action on a person believed to qualify him or her to receive and communicate sacred revelation"




I found inspiration today in a household plant. While that expresses a comical notion, that fact I can even possess 'living' household plants is comical in it's own right. I was once a gal with a black thumb. Moving to Manhattan, a city void of nature outside of Central Park, develops the horticulturalist in anybody...even me.

I have a lovely small potted palm. Ok, so yes, I picked about the easiest of varieties to maintain. But I tend to them and love them, especially now as I overlook nothing but the concrete of the city below. Yet what's more, is that somehow in my care my little plant sprouted two young offspring. Like a proud Momma, I've watched them from their very first sprouting. One seemed to jut out from the soil in a bit of a hurry of it's own, as if it suddenly just one day it appeared out of nowhere. The other appeared to be a weakly stunted seedling that barely punctuated the dirt. It reached up and through with the smallest leaf. I thought for sure it wouldn't survive. Nonetheless, I watered them, spoke to them...even kissed them from time to time. In our family, there are no children yet except for these two small seedlings struggling to survive their youth.

I've watched for many months as they grew each at their own pace. The smaller one, seemed to creep up and up but not without succumbing to the weight of the soil pressing down into it. I feared it could not bear the challenge, but it's once weak looking leaves now surprise me with each passing day. They have slowly grown stronger, greener.

Meanwhile the other that was so eager to enter the world and stand tall seemed to be growing weaker. It's stalk underdeveloped and thin. It's leaves wilting no matter how diligently I watered and fed it. It grew tall no doubt, but now could barely support it's own weight.

Today I looked to find it nearly fallen over. It's leaves, even those recently sprouted cracked and laid lifeless. My little underling, the one I thought for certain would surely die within weeks of it's peering through the surface was vibrantly green and beginning to flourish.

I found it heartbreaking and immediately began to dig up my dying seedling. While doing so I realized how shallow it had been planted. As I carefully removed it, I saw that some of it's roots were exposed to air and damaged. Despite it's rapid first growth, full of promise and fervor, it was now was falling incredibly short. It had always been too close to the surface. It did not have to struggle to break through like it's sibling. It's roots were not safely buried, leaving it vulnerable. It's stem remained juvenile and void of sound structure. Eventually without the need to grow strong in order to survive from the very start, it was unprepared to bear it's own weight.

In hopes of second chances, I've buried it's fragile roots and stem deeper into the ground. Only time will tell how it may weather it's new existence. My hope is that it is reversible as only death comes with permanence. In the meantime, I pull inspiration from little sprouted palm, who worked so hard to grow despite a mound of dirt and weight that surrounded it. It defied even my expectations.

In life, many will grow sullen in despair when they feel burdened by disappointments, by setbacks and obstacles. I, myself, sometimes wonder why certain journeys can be shrouded in more unforeseen difficulties than others. Some may have even weathered storms that I, thankfully, have never even known myself. All of our struggles are unique, but none are less valid then any others. Then one day you go through your normal routine to simply water a plant and you realize God speaks to you in all the ways he can. Sometimes it comes in unexpected moments, that can seem rather silly... but in reality become profoundly impacting and incredibly loud.


I'm thankful for those moments.

When the Stars begin to Fall: Letting Go of Expectation

A week and a half ago, found me celebrating my 35th birthday. It was odd really. I remember as a child, wondering what life would be like when I was 'that old'.  I was a quite the dreamer in my adolescence. I'm sure a great many of us were/Are... Are we still dreaming? At 35, I suppose you begin to look at the picture that you've painted through the years. You take record of the triumphs, the pitfalls. The blunders and the wins. If only we were all 'winning' as Charlie Sheen would have us believe.

I had the privilege of speaking to a group of youths at the Covenant House here in New York recently. It's a facility that houses and educates disadvantaged and homeless teens. It's unbelievable to realize how many children begin their journey in this world with almost nothing. I say almost, because I could see despite circumstances, they all had the dreamer in their eyes.  My role was to discuss career planning along with a small panel of my peers. We came from a wide range of backgrounds, completely diverse paths with varying kernels of wisdom, or at least a more experienced perspective as we were all in our 30's and 40's.

While I could have gone into great depth about the 'glamorous' life of an actress and photographer,  I decided that what might best serve them is an education in goal setting. While my upbringing wasn't nearly as challenging as many of theirs, I understood what it meant to come from a family with limited means. I was raised by a single Mother barely getting by. Fortunately, what we could not afford monetarily, I was at least blessed to have been given in love and unconditional support no matter how hair-brained my goals were. As mentioned I was a big dreamer and big dreams, cost big money that we didn't have.  So, I learned to be resourceful. I wanted to be the first in my family to attend college. Of course I picked a private University 3,000 miles away in sunny California but hard work, focus, tenacity and a lot of faith in God, made me a USC Alum.  That experience taught me to be self motivated and perhaps that has always been my greatest strength.

Looking back, I am acutely aware that I chose a profession that is not only inherently difficult but is filled with more rejection than acceptance. Despite an imbalance of 'No's' ,  I've survived over 10 years in the crazy business of Entertainment. The best part, the part that I am most proud of, is my ability to still be absolutely positive and encouraging when I looked into the eyes of the teens I was speaking to.  They have every reason in the world, to chase the highest star and deserve to be given the wings of support to do so.

As I write this, I find myself slightly tearing. Not because I'm so proud of myself or have an overinflated idea that I am this ever giving charitable person.  At 35 years old, I realized that I started out reaching for one star and got lost in a sea of them. As you set your course while still in youth, you could never really see just how far up they were, or how long it was going to take to come even close enough to see the twinkle.

I found a great quote the other day, on a magnet no less, by an unknown author. "Life isn't about finding yourself, it's about creating yourself".  I wonder if indeed I created myself, enough. I've had so many wonderful stories in my collection of experiences. I've achieved opportunities in my profession, I have made great friends. I have been on TV, published in Magazines as a writer and a photographer. I have designed albums for so many talented clients I lovingly call friends.  All these amazing accomplishments, that made the teens I was speaking to 'ooh'  and 'ahh'. They were so much more proud of me than I was of myself.  I came there to teach them about striving to reach their dreams and they were teaching me how to see my own differently.

When you're drifting in the sky, it's hard to maintain perspective.  You start focusing in all directions and for someone like myself, sometimes simultaneously. I operate like a baby with a shiny object. While it's made my life nothing short of stimulating, it forces a different vantage point of 'success'.  My goal at 18 was to be like Julia Roberts. I wanted to be a famous actress, walk red carpets and give my Oscar acceptance speech. Most of life, that seemed the plan. I did everything I could imagine to try and achieve that.  With each passing year, and passing opportunity, things inevitably start to fall off. For all intents and purposes, and by definition of my original goal, I failed.

At 35, I am not Julia Roberts, I have not really walked red carpets as the star and I've never been cut off by music during my acceptance speech.   At 35, I have been on TV, I have been published, I have helped encourage and facilitate other people's dream, I am a wife, a friend. I have laughed as much as I've cried. I still struggle inwardly with those pre-conceived ideas of what I thought my life as an Actor would evolve into by this time. I peaked without ever knowing, such that success has been forced to changed along the way. The stars in heaven moved on me a bit. Some floated away, and others thankfully found me.

In the end, I hope I'm creating a version of myself that I will grow to be proud of.  When letting go of expectation, you breathe a little easier. Doesn't mean, that I don't still look up and wish and wonder 'what if?' When I look beyond my own self imposed disappointment, I see that my heart is filled with so much more than I ever imagined. It is a life that's different than I set out for, but more grounded and fulfilling than any trash in a Gossip magazine. On a number of occasions, I had met Brittany Murphy through mutual friends. I will always remember how sincerely sweet and genuine she was.  A girl who had gotten sucked into the vacuum of Hollywood. It created a void inside her, that she always seemed desperate to fill.  When she passed, it was not just sad, it was tragic. She wanted the very same things that I did and she perused it with everything she had in her being until it was all gone.  The business, as it's referred to is a very slippery slope, where most of the players are forever trying to reach the top and usually struggling against sliding to the bottom. I have to remind myself of this often. At 18 years old, you never think of that reality. You're too busy being mesmerized by the glitz.  The 'what if's' I dwell on could have had very dark possibilities. In the end I must trust the road I was led to and be grateful. 

To the dreamer in all of us,
The sky is a very big place, and stars are continuously forming.
May we never be discouraged at any age.

Strength: A lesson learned when the wrinkles begin to form

I suppose it's apropos that my first stab at blogging deals with the concept of 'Strength', mainly being that of the inward emotional type. Such a bold revelation that happened just as suddenly as this first post. I spent the first year of marriage learning more about myself and my relation to others than I did in the 34 years thus far. I relocated from Los Angeles, a city that welcomed me at the naive age of 18 and cradled my upbringing for 15 years. In that decade and a half I thought I was living the life of an 'adult'. I had an apartment, a car payment, credit cards and social calendars. What I lacked was experience. A checking account doesn't make you a woman or a man, a car note is far from real responsibility and breakup number 2 with rocker boyfriend of the week doesn't sufficiently add up to the challenges one encounters in the face of bonafide turmoil. Granted, it all helps shape who we are, but I was mistaken to think that I had somehow peaked in my awareness. My 'wordly-ness' was just another delusion of Tinseltown. A backdrop for what was to come.

I met marriage head on with a cross country move, leaving behind everything I had and was in the West Coast. I packed my bags and took the leap laughing all the way. Of all things, the wedding was the easiest to tackle. It was the new city that stumped me, it was hitting reset on the career that near debilitated me. It was the first 'real' moment of adulthood that proved to me that every heartbreak in LA was just a training ground. Two months into our marriage, we had discovered that we successfully had gotten pregnant, never guessing that it could be so easy. So we thought. Just as soon as we received the news, a week later the smile turned to concern when our doctor could not locate the fetus in the embryonic sac. It was suggested we wait another week and test again. At week 7, there existed only a growing empty sac. We learned this horrible trick of nature had a name- Blighted Ovum. At this time our first physician casually suggested that we abort the pregnancy. Despite his expertise I had found evidence that miracles in the situation can and did occur. My husband and I decided to put our faith in God and hold out for his word. If it was not meant to be than a miscarriage would be imminent. We waited 12 weeks for that sign. Days before an appointment with a new OB/GYN I began to have symptoms of a potential miscarriage. Our new physician immediately sent us in for ultrasound that same afternoon.

Over the 12 weeks, I suppose we had some time to grieve, we had time to hope , we had time to accept all possible outcomes... at least that's what we had thought. In a darkened room with my husband's hand in mine, we watched the monitor as the lab technician painstakingly attempted to locate a fetus or even a heartbeat. I remember glancing at her face trying to gauge her reactions. Their training goes beyond the science as it was impossible to read her expression, but I knew she was desperately trying to locate some sign, ANY sign of life. I turned once again to the monitor catching a glimpse of my husbands eyes that could not help but water...12 weeks, countless prayers and many tears...there still remained simply an empty sac. Our child had stopped developing many weeks before and there was nothing to do but accept this fate.  After the procedure was complete a very kind eyed attending physician came into the exam room and looked at us both without speaking. Though he was not at liberty to discuss the findings without first contacting our primary doctor, we knew just by his silence our worst case scenario had begun to happen.

Within minutes of leaving the hospital I began to fully miscarry. Three hours at home alongside my husband we had lost what was left of any evidence of our pregnancy. So many weeks patiently waiting and the book had closed suddenly and without much pain. It simply drifted away from us. It took time to heal both physically and emotionally and perhaps there will always be a part of me that remains a bit scarred. In  the following months we looked forward to being able to begin trying again. We accepted our outcome and thought ourselves courageous for waiting as long as we did for God to step in and show us the road. Months would go by, and the spoils of getting pregnant so quickly the first time made trying again so difficult. Month after month were mini heartbreaks. You go into it trying to not 'try' but who's really good at that anyway? It defies human nature especially the nature of two people that came so close, only to begin hoping again. We are at 9 months of trying and exactly a year from when we first got pregnant. A Year? A year has gone by and somehow we're still here, trying, hoping and trusting that indeed there is a road. A first year of marriage being met with such a challenge as this. Amazingly and with much gratitude, I have never felt more strongly about a partner. Neither of us imagined a honeymoon phase such as this. I never knew what real loss was until now. I never knew about life problems that went beyond the occasional breakup or lack of funds. It was finding love at the surrender of a life I had on another coast, it was losing a child without ever getting to meet them, it was testing a fledgling marriage with the hope that we can survive everything. All along there being no guarantees of anything.

I have no doubt the road ahead will be difficult. There is so much uncertainty in trying to conceive, there is fear in my climbing age, mounting costs of Doctors visits, treatments and whatever other things lay before us. There is also the reality that God, does have a purpose and a plan and while our agenda to have children is natural and beautiful it may not unfold the way we had hoped. This is the strength of character I never knew until now. I see her more and more in the mirror along with a couple extra wrinkles here and there. If I quiet the head I believe I hear a very steady beating of the heart. A centered self that only comes when you have left youth behind. In the midst of disappointment and challenge I'm finding myself growing beyond my own expectations. I find my marriage building with stronger blocks and know that this foundation though absolutely saddening will not destroy that which is wonderful if we persevere. At the end of night, is a breaking dawn that cast shadows away. It will illuminate the road ahead and warm the chill.