Last October I thought I was going to die. Not figuratively. Literally. I remember it clearly. I had just checked into a hotel in Tampa. It was the week after my birthday. The worst birthday on record, I might add. I checked my voicemail and there it was. That dreaded message from your doctor’s office. The one where the nurse informs you a little too nonchalantly (because she does this every Tuesday between the hours of 12 and 2) that your test results are abnormal. Could I please call the doctor’s office? Crap (I actually said something a little stronger, but this is a family show.).

With my bags standing at attention, untouched at the door, I called my doctor. She wanted me to come in within the next few days for more testing. I didn’t want to wait a few days, so I rolled that suitcase right back to the hotel shuttle and put my bottom on the next flight to Nashville. I was in her office at 8 AM the next morning. It was confirmed. It wasn’t good. It wasn’t a two-week death sentence. It was more along the lines of, “This will most likely shorten your life, and to what extent is dependant from person to person.”

But I knew I was going to be the unlucky one. I just had this feeling that I would be “that girl” in the newspaper that everyone would pity because my end came so swiftly and suddenly. “So young.” they would all say. It was odd that my thoughts were so morbid given that I am normally an optimistic person, but I just had a feeling. I thought it strange (cruel?) that God would allow me to endure the loss of so much in the few preceding years, languishing in depression and loss and mire, only to come out on the other side so I could get “The Call.” Really?

My first thought was one of peace (or apathy) with what I felt was inevitable. “Well fine. Just take me. I don’t’ really care to see how this all works out anyway.” I was tired of being strong. I didn’t even want to be the person that fights. I wanted it to just whisk me away and save me from the daunting task of starting my life again. My second thought, however, was of Tian, my “little sister” in the Big Brothers Big Sisters program that I have been mentoring over the last 18 months. Tian’s daddy died almost two years ago. She is still reeling. How could she not still be reeling? Tian and I are connected through loss. We are bound together through tears shed over our respective hurt and anger about how life’s path has changed for us. She was the reason (and sometimes the only reason) that I would get out of bed during the worst days of my journey. Yes. She was my second thought.

Fueled only by my desire to not inflict any more pain in Tian’s life, I decided to fight to the extent that I could. I changed my diet. I ate organically. I bumped my already healthy habits up to the next level. I told my two dearest friends, and no one else. I didn’t want pity. I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to fight it quietly…and just in case it didn’t work out, I at least wanted to be remembered as stoic. Chin up, as I like to say.

We’ve all seen movies and read about everyday people that find out that they are going to die. When confronted with their own frailty, they mount up with one last “hoorah” of strength, and they accomplish great things. All of a sudden they see life through a different “lens.” It is cliché, but one that never loses its power. And so it was with me. My “lens” changed. It was odd to be surrounded by people that had no idea what was going on inside my body and inside my mind. Everything became exaggerated. Time was precious. I lived life even more vicariously than I already had been. Friendships mattered more than anything. I felt as if I was having an out of body experience, taking in every moment as a bystander who wasn’t really there. Yeah. It was weird. One girlfriend told me that I was too cavalier about my life. Looking back, I probably was. Maybe I still am, but it was a huge factor in my deciding to tackle the Jet Stream Girl venture. I needed to do something meaningful. To leave a legacy. To matter.

I admit it. I was mad at God, but I guess I hadn’t ever gotten over being mad at him for the previous few years, so it was status quo. I felt like we had been arm-wrestling for years and he had finally stopped letting me feel like I had a shot. He finally thwaped my arm down on the table. Fine.

The Georgetown Fortune Teller

So I did something that I thought I would never do. Something totally taboo in my world. I went to a fortune-teller. Yep. I don’t put any stock in that sort of thing, but for some reason I wanted to hear what she would say. I wanted her to look at my palm and confirm what I already knew in my heart.

I climbed the stairs to the Georgetown Fortune-Teller and gave the lady my 20 bucks. Gimme your best shot. She did. All sorts of silly goobly-gop that meant nothing. Things that she could surmise solely based on the way I dressed and carried myself. Things that you could say to anyone and it would be true. “You have experienced emotional distress.” Yeah, yeah…we all have, lady. Tell me something I don’t already know. And I said as much. Frustrated by my lack of amazement for her art, she gave me a “freebie” question. Aha. Now we were getting somewhere. “Am I going to die young?” I asked. I phrased it that way on purpose to throw her off. She paused. She examined my palm. She turned a few cards. She took a drag on her cigarette. Finally, she looked into my eyes and replied, “No. You will live well into your 90’s.” My eyes shifted to the worn shag carpet. “Liar.” I thought as I collected my purse and left with disgust.

Two months later I was back at the doctor for follow up tests. I had to wait 4 days for the results. This would be torturous for some. Not me. I lived like I was dying (Cliché! Cliché!). I had a really fantastic 4 days. Meaningful. Centered. I worked out the details of Jet Stream Girl without saying a word. My little labor of love.

Day 4. The nurse called (Must have been a Tuesday between 12 and 2.). She said I was fine. My test results were normal. Silence. Numb.

The doctor explained to me that in some cases, the body actually heals itself. Good cells out number bad cells. The war of good over evil or something. Apparently, every last penny spent at whole foods was worth it.

I should have been happy. I should have been a lot of things. Disappointed probably wasn’t one of them. But A) I was a little irritated that yes; I was going to have to stick around and see how this next chapter of my life turned out. And B) If I was sticking around, I would most likely lose the “lens” over time that I had been using. I would take things for granted again. A day would again become “just another day.” Oh…I could try to hold on to the feeling of “living in the moment,” but let’s face it. Human nature is such that we act and think differently under threat of death. Good or bad, it’s true.

And then my next thought was of Tian. That precious child that had already lost so much. I thought of all the things I wanted to show her. People I wanted her to meet. Conversations I wanted to have with her. Life lessons I wanted to pass along to her. I thought of how funny it was that the one thing that I wanted to fight for was this young woman that I had only known a short time.

It took me a good few weeks to settle in to the fact that I was fine. That God was going to let me arm-wrestle with him a little while longer, and maybe long enough for us to call a truce. You never know. I do still carry that feeling inside me that things are temporal. In a good way…I suppose. I feel more in the moment with my heart. More willing to open up and invest in others. Just a wee bit curious to see how all of this will turn out. The benchmark of death somehow pacifies me. I’ll think, “Well…that really stinks, but I guess it could have been worse. I guess the fortune teller could have been wrong.” In perspective…life is good. And I don’t need a fortune teller to tell me that.

So I guess I’d better do something good with all of this newly found life. I guess I better find a way to matter. To start a legacy and root for it to take hold and flourish right along with me. I have often been told that people like to live vicariously through me. They say this because I’m always grabbing life by the horns in one way or another. But for you, my dear readers…I hope that you will live vicariously WITH me. We all need a “lens” that allows us to see that every moment matters. To us and to those whose lives we brush up against.

So here I am. I am a picture of health (as far as I know). Blessed to have such wonderful people in my life. Blessed to have someone to be better for. A reason to live. A reason to fight. A new lens, not quite as powerful as the last lens, but pretty darn close. A venture like Jet Stream Girl to give my life purpose. An opportunity to give back. A full life ahead of me. Well into my 90’s perhaps. It’s not written on my palm or anything. But I’ve got a good feeling about it.

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Randomness: The quality of lacking any predictable order or plan.

A few months ago I was rummaging through the bland magazine selection at the doctor’s office when I unearthed a copy of Psychology Today. Hmm. It was certainly more promising than AARP and a far more appropriate choice over Fit Pregnancy. I flipped through the worn pages until my eyes stopped at an article on”Randomness.”

There are several theories concerning randomness, and I’ve heard about/read about many of them. My friend Jeffrey Manber, who concocted the initial idea for Jet Stream Girl, is a bit of a “Randomness Junkie/Expert,” in fact. The entire foundation of Jet Stream Girl is founded on the notion that my journey is random, and random people will hopefully participate in randomly propelling me to random locales. All for a good cause. Get it?

This particular article had a “chaos theory” slant on randomness that I had never previously read or articulated, but had always thought to be true. It stated in a nutshell that the more you do, the more random your day/life becomes, the more chaos you open yourself up for.

Chaos: The state of extreme confusion or disorder

I am a woman living a life of randomness. To some extent I always have. I have never wanted my life to be one of mediocrity, so I have certainly put myself out there in terms of looking for opportunities to create unique watermarks for my life. For this reason, every day tends to be an adventure, and I am constantly amazed at all the whimsical happenings in my life.

This photo has nothing to do with this blog. It's random. I used it because my computers randomly decide to die a slow and painful death. I only have a few pictures left, and this is one of them. It's of my dog, Mattie. Enjoy. Totally random. So there.

Jet Stream Girl has been randomness on steroids. I haven’t even left yet and I feel as if I could write a book. For a woman who is actually quite comfortable with adventure, Jet Stream Girl has been a wild ride of getting outside of my comfort zone. And my comfort zone is quite large, I might add. Every aspect of Jet Stream Girl has exposed me to more good, but also to more chaos than I thought possible.

Chaos has had its way with me recently, ironically on the heels of proclaiming in my last blog “Bring on the lemons!” Be careful what you say out loud…someone might take you up on it. The last two weeks of my life have been bloated with “Are you kidding me?” moments. Not to whine, but I have been on the receiving end of a chaotic whip-lashing.  It felt Biblical. “Job-esque.” if you will. In nearly every genre of my existence. The most recent of which has been the total destruction of an iPhone, 3 computers, camera, and the loss of most my photos, writings, and memories.  It is the reason you haven’t seen a blog in a week. I have been stripped. I have been numb. I have been opening myself up in ways I never have as of late…so I guess it shouldn’t surprise me. Still, the extremity and duration of the mayhem has been a bit overwhelming. The chaos has followed my random path….

Thankfully, there is another way in which randomness touches our lives…..

Random Acts of Kindness: Selfless acts performed by a person who wishes to assist or cheer up an individual.

I have always been a huge proponent of Random Act of Kindness. It has been on my own personal agenda for many years to get at least one in per day. I have witnessed its effects. The idea of “paying it forward” is a powerful one, and I have been on the receiving end a time or two as well. It can lift your spirit for a few moments, but it can also change your life. Random acts of kindness are a foundational element in the upcoming Jet Stream Girl format.

So there I was, plugging along. Doing my best to keep my chin up during the onslaught. I am usually a “half-glass-full” kind of gal, but even I was beginning to wonder what was going on. AND THEN: (I love those words. So rife with possibility.)

The universe shifted. It began with a conversation with a total stranger who didn’t know me from Adam, or of the recent events. This person took the time to speak into my life with words of encouragement. Salve for the heart. And so it went. Over the course of a few days, my hope was restored by the small and not-so-small words and deeds that were bestowed upon me. I wish I could enumerate them all for you, but your eyes would begin to glaze over and we’d have to pass smelling salts under your nose to get you back. But just know they were plentiful and meaningful.

Random acts of kindness are funny in that sometimes you may not even recognize them for what they are. When life is gravy, you may miss the fact that someone fed your meter. You may be too all consumed with how darn great your day is to notice the fact that someone added extra fabric softener to your towels just because they know you like it. It is unfortunate that sometimes we don’t appreciate the “little things” until we are dying from a lack thereof. Complete and utter darkness makes the small beam of light that more obvious. And more effectual.

The Point Is:

Life is random. And so is chaos. But there is far more “good” out there than “bad.” I have been reminded this week of how important it is to be a part of the Hope. To be a catalyst for someone else’s faith in humanity. The chaos and clutter can be minimized if we become intentional in how we react. If we are conscious of how we treat people (whether we have a vested interest in them or not), and if we tune in to how our actions have a ripple effect. One day it may be your turn to battle it out, and you better believe you will need other people there to cheer you on from the sidelines, and maybe even get in the ring a time or two for you. So maybe we should all get in the ring for each other a little more often.

I think it was good that I had such a tough couple of weeks. I mean…the entire premise of Jet Stream Girl (and Big Brothers Big Sisters, the organization that I am raising awareness on behalf of) is that we all need a hand up. We all need some Random Acts of Kindness. I am relying on nothing more than precisely that to propel me around the world. Maybe this was a harbinger of things to come. And of the great potential of the human heart. I choose to believe so. Cuz I’m still a “glass-half-full” kind of gal.

So here’s a toast to “Randomness.” To the many facets of it. To the excitement and potential that it brings to our lives, and to the opportunities it provides for others to jump aboard our moving train. I will continue to embrace it, knowing that when the chaos finds me, the same randomness that has exposed me will also save me.

Journey On. Journey Strong. (And again I say “Amen.”)

Thanks to all of you that have buoyed my spirits this week:

Dana, Michael and the amazing staff at Mac Medics who tirelessly tried to resuscitate my computers (All three of them!), for acknowledging the feeling of loss and helplessness and not pooh-poohing it away. And to whoever it was that called me from your office and told me to hang in there. I did.

Dolly: Thanks for sharing your story of giving back to others when you have given all you can. You have truly put your life on hold so that others can just begin to find theirs. Thanks for the perspective.

Dan: Thanks for all the computers (how many are we up to now anyway?) and support. Even still.

Every one of you who has smiled or hugged me this week. I needed it.

Tom Judkins: Your kindness amazes me. Your humble spirit stops me in my tracks. Thank you. I cannot say enough.

Marc Haupton: I needed that Boston Crème donut more than you know. Seriously.

Chad Vander Kool: Thank you for your words. Your story. For reminding me about my faith and the strength and depth of it.

Dave: Thanks for filling in the gaps and pretending to not notice the puffy eyes and the constant stream of snot. For standing on the sideline and getting in the ring. And for all the little ways that you sneak chocolate into my life.

Dana: Lady. What can I say? You know. I can’t say it without getting a little blubbery…but you know. Too much to put down. You are one classy dame.

Jeffrey W: Wow. Thanks for stepping up, giving hope, and following through. More than I ever expected. I’m crossing my fingers and toes.

*If any of my readers have any pictures of me and my weird little life, could you please send them back to me?

Feel like a random act of kindness today? Click Here to see how you make it happen by mentoring a child through Big Brothers Big Sisters.

As you hopefully know from the full perusal of this website (because I am positive that you have read every single blog entry up to this point, right?), I am a mentor in the Big Brothers Big Sisters program. Tian is my 14 year- old “little sis,” and we are tight. It took some time getting there, naturally, but there isn’t a thing in the world I wouldn’t do for her. As a matter of fact, she will be “guest blogging” from time-to-time on this website. That’s how much I love that kid…..

When we reached a certain level in our friendship, I would say to her, “I’ll always get your back.” I tell her on a repeated basis that there isn’t a thing she could do that would change the way I feel about her. I love the dickens out of that young woman, and I tell her so. I know she is only 14 so there are many rough years ahead of her. Years that are rife with temptations that can sideline her future and her happiness. She may make some “wrong” choices along the way, but I have no doubt that she will make more “right” choices.

Tian knows that regardless of her decisions, I stand by her and for her. I will never lose faith in her. I will always believe the best about her. If she finds herself in a mess of her own making, I will still be right there with the biggest shovel I can find in order to help her dig out and move on. She may even outgrow me for a season, but even so…..I do have her back. I always will.

The intensity I feel about that simple statement comes from a time when I have felt the loss of friendships when I was at my worst. It is easy to love someone when life is gravy. That’s nuthin’. Anybody can do that. But when the wringer of life has its way with you, you truly find out who your real friends are. It is a weeding out process where those that truly love you will still be standing with you. Locking arms with you until the bitter end when you’ve exhausted the emotional resources of yourself and everyone else around you. Even if they don’t understand why you feel the way you feel. Even if they don’t agree with you. That’s when you know. You know….

Yes…I have experienced some “falling away” of some great people that I never thought would let me go. But they did, and I can’t even fault them, I suppose. There are seasons of friendship, after all. If there is one thing I’ve learned from the changing of seasons, it is that I want to be a better friend to those that I care about. I want them to know that they can be “that guy/girl” that drives everyone to near madness with their temporary insanity….and I’ll still be there. I’ll have their back. I won’t let them go….

So here’s to the people that have gotten my back. You know who you are. You angels from God that have held my arms up when I couldn’t. Those of you who believed in me when I didn’t. You, who allowed me to cry and dribble in my coffee even though you just wanted to have nice breakfast. Those of you who didn’t judge, only loved. Those of you that have reached out to me and included me in your lives knowing that I was starting all over from scratch with mine. You, that have truly “gotten my back.” Not in words, but in actions. You make me a better person, a better friend. I could never repay you for it, but I will certainly try by mirroring what you have shown me.

A few weeks ago I was on the phone with Tian. I ended the conversation as I often do with, “Now Tian, you better know that I’ve got your back.”Then Tian said something to me that nearly dropped me to the floor. She didn’t even realize (but if she reads this blog she will find out) how those words affected me. She simply said, “There was never any question.” And there wasn’t……

Ca-thar-sis- (noun) purging of emotional tensions

Today’s blog is simple. It is my diary entry from a few years ago. I was studying in Austria for my MBA and it was a contemplative period of my life. It was a time where I was assessing my past and charting my future. I was in the throes of making peace with myself. So here’s a little peak into my soul. I go back every now-and-then (as I did today before I hit the pavement) for a “re-read.” Sometimes I need to be reminded of how far I’ve come, and how far I have to go. Running is my catharsis. It used to be food until I found myself perusing the girdle aisle at department stores. So here’s to whatever it is that brings you peace. Whether it be running, meditating, solitude, praying, looking at the back of your hand, whatever. May you make peace today with who you are and who you’d like to be.

June 11, 2007

I ran this morning. I ran, but my body heaved in defiance. It rejected my new training routine like the recipient of a heart transplant rejects its new prize, even though it is the very thing that will sustain its existence. I ran and my body protested in earnest, threatened to buckle under the strain. I have to run. I have to run because every time my foot pounds against the concrete, I am releasing something that I don’t want. I am letting things fall away. Some of the things I am purging myself of are learned, some are innate, and some are thrust upon me by others. I am purging of all these things with every labored step. I ran this morning, and the train that occupied the track next to my grooved running path roared past indignantly, its uncaring wake slapping me squarely in the face. Daring me to run faster….to push myself harder…to release the pain and anger and disappointment that smothers the soul like a gasoline spill in the heart. “Pain is weakness leaving the body.” I ran this morning…

(Find yours catharsis)