I grew up with the threat of divorce, and I’m still not sure which is worse: growing up with the threat or actually being in a divorced family.

When I was about 11, my mother had had the last straw. Crying on the phone in her bedroom (for privacy, even though everyone could hear her) she told my grandmother her news. She was getting a divorce.

Perhaps to my mother’s surprise and SHOCK, my grandmother confronted her after a long pause with, “Oh, no. You’re not coming to live here with two children and no way to support yourself.”

Ultimately, to my grandmother’s credit and to my mothers’, this “rejection” created an unanticipated opportunity.

I have no idea what, if any, support she had at the time, especially since this was before the Internet or FWW, but she made some big decisions and formed a plan: she’d return to college, finish her degree, find a teaching job, divorce my dad, and then support us.

I was horrified. I though at 35, my Mother was certainly too old to return to college! These days, most colleges have programs for people to resume their studies, like Columbia University’s School of General Studies, www.gs.columbia.edu for one example. But back then there wasn’t much out there.

With her study muscles a bit atrophied, school was very challenging for my mother at first. But after time she successfully graduated and went on to easily find a teaching job.

The Punch line:
During and after these years and this process, my mother became so involved with her own life that she no longer felt a need to get divorced.

And while still not entirely happy (with him or with herself), her newfound independence, self-respect, feelings of self-worth, and love for her work, all allowed her to turn down the volume of her rage.

So, when is the right time to leave a marriage? It's really an individual choice. But sometimes, in the words of Borat, “Divorce? NOT!”

Thinking of all of you,
Judith

We all have both traditional and seasonal opportunities for new beginnings. For example, September for many of us means new pens, pencils, and notebooks to prepare for school. We buy them for our kids, or split the list with our former husbands, or with the father of our children and manage to sneak in a few treats for ourselves. We save the notebooks like fine china and wait till the right time. We now have drawers full of fresh, empty notebooks, waiting... but for what? a special occasion? the perfect project? for Godot?

While January’s New Years offers new beginnings, it seems that resolutions are more wishes than goals. As a result, we fail easily and feel defeated.

For example:
• “I won’t call or email my former husband again.”
• “I’ll join a gym. “
• “That’s it! I’ve had it! I’m getting organized”.

Daylight Savings Time, earlier than ever this year, presents another chance for new beginnings.

Whether or not weather complies, let’s picture ourselves in the glowing late afternoon sunlight, windows open, soft breezes, September’s pen and notebook at the ready. We’ve made, poured, and carried our favorite tea in a fine china cup (which we never seem to use that often because it’s too fragile, it’s not a special occasion, or we ourselves don’t ever seem to be special enough). We plant ourselves in our sun-kissed spot with the intention, (thank you, Wayne Dyer, www.waynedyer.com, among others) of sipping rather than gulping, savoring both the tea and the moment.

The change into Daylight Savings Time offers an opportunity for new beginnings. Can we allow ourselves to set aside a few moments for ourselves? Can we “be here now”? What would it take for us to give ourselves new beginnings? Moments of renewal? Is it even possible? What will it take for us to believe that we are worth it?

We can all learn from what you think. Please let me know….

Management guru, Tom Peters (www.TomPeters.com) happens to be my sister’s current virtual mentor. Below is a paragraph that became her mantra:

“I’m older than most of you, and I sometimes worry about what my tombstone will read. But I recently figured it out. I do not want it to go like this: “Thomas Peters, He Would Have Done Great Things, But His Boss Wouldn’t Let Him.”

I've been thinking a lot about women and the way in which we take (or don’t take) initiative. How do we choose to spend our time and energy? Return to school? Change careers? Travel? End a marriage? Find someone else to love? Teach a child to read? Kayak on the Hudson? Go to a gym?

Too often too many of us automatically (like a knee-jerk reaction) let loose with our “buts” without thinking — not our butts, nor our buns, but rather this kind of but:
“I’d like to my invite some friends for dinner, but…”
“I’d like to paint my apartment, but ….”
“I’d like to go to that book signing….”

You get the idea.

With our “buts”, we squash our own original and adventurous spirit. Why? Don’t ask. Who cares? Let’s just consider reducing our buts and think about opening ourselves to being more of ourselves.

Read these sentences aloud and really listen as you read: “I could’ve done some really cool stuff, but my (choose one or more--boss, mother, husband, children’s father, children) wouldn’t let me,” and I could’ve done some really cool stuff, but I wouldn’t let myself.”

How do you feel hearing those sentences?

I challenge you, as I challenge myself, to change it up a "but" (or "bit") by asking yourself: “What really cool stuff could I do today?”

Then consider doing it — (We’ll revisit this in future blogs, I’m certain.)

I’d love to hear your thoughts, but…. ;- )
(seriously, I really would love to read your thoughts)

I’ve worked with many women, (and men), at various stages of their lives. The women had two things in common: Being a woman, of course, and having an ability to create connection.

Research by insightful writer and linguist (no, not what you’re thinking) Deborah Tannen, professor at Georgetown University, (http://www9.georgetown.edu/faculty/tannend/) found that women talk with one another to create rapport, (sounds like “The Colbert Report”).

Even though women quickly identify differences by age and race, they connect by identifying common ground, or by finding similarities. (Think of Ellen as she hosted the Academy Awards, searching for common ground with Gwynneth Paltrow:
“You have a daughter named Apple, I eat apples.”)

Recently I participated in a women’s workshop through WomenVision, http://www.womanvis.com, where I knew one of the women only slightly. I had no rational clue to help me find a way to build bridges with the 30- something women-strangers. During the workshop, one activity was to write quietly about “passion”. Slowly, I realized, without proof or examples, that in my childhood home, passion signified danger or lack of safety.

Tears unexpectedly dripped down my cheeks. I couldn’t stop myself from silently weeping. Finally, with the occasional sniff, I knew I needed tissues. As I looked up to search for tissues, I saw my reflection in another woman sitting across from me. She looked up at that same moment, also with silent tears, sniffles, on a tissue search.

After we “got” our mirror images, neither of us could contain belly laughs of recognition. Where we’d had no previous connection, that one shared wordless moment of tears, tissues, and loving laughter forged a bond.