I love the subtle nuances in language you encounter when you sit down to write. You end up pleasantly surprised by the unexpected gifts your muse can bring once you show up for the moment.
While preparing to write this post, I thought to share how I’ve been in the process of re-creating certain aspects of my life, and I initially wrote, “I am in process of recreation.”
I stopped and looked at that last word and thought,
“Now, that’s an oddball way to say that… re-creating vs. recreation?”
Or is it?
To describe re-creating oneself or life, I subconsciously used the word that means “refreshment of strengths and spirits after work,” a term whose Latin origin means to “restore to health.”
The more I think about it, that’s what writing does for me—it restores me.
The problem I face, like many other well-meaning writers, is I don’t give my health, er, writing, the front row seat it deserves. I neglect it, take it for granted, put it off, blab about my desire to improve it, and feel guilty and inadequate for not making it an everyday practice. Ugh, so much angst and shame surrounds this idea when I spell it out in that way.
But it wasn’t always like that…
When I was nine years old, I went to the store with my mother and came across a fuchsia-colored, cloth-bound book with blank pages inside and instantly made a friend. I asked to take this new friend home and mom agreed—no outside influences necessary, my request was based on a simple desire to write. That’s it. I had no expectations, no goals, no agenda, no ego.
I picked up a pen (no deep breaths required), and had my first exchange with page one.
It went like this… “Today I ate eggs and Grandma and Grandpa are visiting us from Texas…” That was the start to a lifelong relationship between me and writing.
I visited my new friend on a periodic basis and as the years past, I filled up page after page with details about how I felt, things I ate, places I went, and boys I liked. My infatuation with a guy named Ricky got what newspapers and magazines would consider full page spreads—I was clearly mesmerized by his dirty blond hair, white skin, blue eyes, and that Puerto Rican bubble butt.
(What, you didn’t think women noticed too?)
I became a writing zealot, a devout scribe to my deity, The Page… it proved to be my sanctuary of sorts.
Instead of rubbing rosary beads, I was kneading ballpoint pens between my fingers, releasing whatever demons plagued me at the moment. Happily, I knelt at the edge of my bed many a night to confess my innermost thoughts. This faithful act kept my emotions in check and calmed my mind when life didn’t make sense. I had little to no understanding of anxiety, procrastination, resistance or feeling a sense of obligation when it came to engaging with this faithful friend.
My family saw me writing often and, for the most part, they respected my privacy—except that one time my brother grabbed my diary and read it in front of the neighbor boy. Why did he have to randomly open to the page that began, “Today I started wearing a training bra…”? That story followed me to school the next day and I had a few of the other guys teasing me about my newly developing body. Dirty looks and silence were my response, but I licked my wounds, returned home and worked it out onto the page.
When my mother was busy loving my brother and actually raising me, I wrote about the unfairness of being the girl. When I experienced my first French kiss—with Ricky, of course—I wrote about that 25 minute ordeal (read: this burgeoning adolescent girl’s dream come true). When I had some run-ins with mean girls at school, I cursed and wrote about them.
Pre-pubescent little girl diaries with front cover key locks became hormonal teen girl five-subject notebook journals.
As the years passed, I enjoyed rereading my journals and seeing the changes I went through, laughing at myself and with others as I did open book readings with friends on my front stoop. My handwriting and language evolved from one book to another. I was able to evaluate myself as a person and decide, “Yuck…I cursed a lot there, not attractive…Wow, I was hateful…Ugh, what crappy friends, never again…” Those moments of recognition were the seeds of self-awareness being gently planted within me.
Thanks to my unacknowledged writing habit, I was unknowingly making decisions about the woman I wanted to be, on paper and in person.
Although I didn’t realize the benefits of what I was doing, self-reflection was at work and these seemingly unimportant moments of recreation were actually doing their part to create the person I am today.
When it came to writing, there was never a question of what I wanted to say, whether I was good enough to say it, whether the story was worth telling…it was merely about release and play and self-expression.
Eventually, that intimate practice of writing atop bunk beds late at night, sitting at the kitchen table, and scribbling in front of my Chicago brownstone on warm summer days translated to a young girl who had a high regard for herself. Writing granted me a healthy dose of self-worth without the conscious pursuit of it. Writing was an outlet for peace and solace. I wrote as if I was speaking to someone separate from me, yet it was a form of cultivating a relationship with me all along.
As I grew up, I took breaks from writing because I got busy living and there was no guilt in my absence.
I became your everyday working girl, newly graduated from college, and when I wanted to slow down, I’d do so at the page.
It wasn’t until I jumped the corporate cliff and made the announcement, “I want to be a writer” that I somehow lost the feeling the act brought me.
I was mentally unprepared to handle the struggle I encountered balancing something that brought me peace once I put a price on it. Declaring myself a writer was unnecessary because I was one already. Without realizing, I had embarked on a search for validation for something that didn’t need to be proven.
Instead of going to confession with pen and paper in hand, I started to rely on conversations with others about my feelings, about the confusion I was experiencing on this trail that had only my name on it. I almost started to believe that other people had the answers I needed, that the accolades and social proof behind them was suppose to give me comfort in asking for directions to where I needed to go—as if they knew. That wasn’t the key that would unlock the door to what once brought me and could always bring me peace.
Looking outside of yourself for answers has a dizzying effect and takes you nowhere.
Show up for you, for the YOU in fresh canvas form to weigh things out in your own mind first. Give time to what nurtures and grounds you…the practice of writing, or whatever art form that chooses you. There are many outlets—sports, music, writing, painting, building a business, etc. Become engaged in yours, regularly, so you don’t become stagnant and polluted by what can cause you to feel jaded or confused about life. It can get pretty weird out there.
Writing, or whatever art form you practice, has a grounding effect and it’s crucial that you remember to do it for this purpose, not for your own personal glory, for likes, or validation.
I’m fully aware that my words could land on deaf ears because each one of us has to take a ride for ourselves to discover these truths. It’s hard won wisdom and it cannot be earned any other way.
I’m not here to dish grand advice on how to live right, but to encourage you to simply write (or however you creatively unleash on life). Do it because it makes you feel good, because it strengthens you, and if you approach it with that intention, or better yet, with no intention at all, you will experience true recreation in this very pure act and end up creating something unexpectedly amazing.
Those moments when you are stared at blankly or laughed at frankly… grab a hold of them and make them your experiment on paper.
When you write it out, you inevitably write it off, and THAT is what restores you again and again and again.
Live, write, release, restore… go for that full circle effect, my friend.Tweet
I went to Portland last weekend to attend an unconventional conference and being that it was my first visit, I wasn’t sure what to expect.
I’d heard my business mentor and cousin, Tony rave about it and now that I’ve been living in Austin for almost two years, I’ve become well aware of the comparison folks make about Portland and Austin, calling them sister cities.
This was a trip in which I went with the flow of each new day (true chillaxin’). What I’ve concluded is that I love my Austin, Tejas. Sorry P-landers.
I’m sure if you stay awhile, you’ll get the similar vibe amongst the locals of my town and P town, but as far as the way the two places look, I got more of a San Francisco (SFO) feel.
I have to say, no city has topped San Francisco for me…well, unless you journey to this colorful town south of the U.S. border or take an 8 hour flight for some fancy-shmancy bike riding in this Italian village.
I ate really well in Portland. A satisfied palate is crucial for any traveling, convivial woman.Tweet
I’ve made it back to home sweet Austin after a convivial weekend in Portland for Chris Guillebeau’s World Domination Summit (WDS 2013).
It was my first time attending and I’m thankful to have shared the experience with my friend and fellow Austinite, Monica Crowe. On our flight home, we sported our new WDS 2013 shirts…
Once you get familiar with going to conferences (or any social event), you begin to understand that it’s not about impressing, it’s about (more…)Tweet
Self-care is a form of trusting, listening, seeking, yearning, surrendering…it’s purpose is convivial at the core.
This is the story of my convivial discovery of an Ancient Mayan massage therapy and how I came to the understanding that you are your body’s advocate and its up to you to find the many ways that nurture, restore, and heal you…
Once upon a time, I headed to Mexico for a much needed sabbatical after quitting my job in Banking. I left behind my husband, my home, my parents; my country, language, currency, and all certainty to walk the cobble-stoned streets of San Miguel de Allende with the intention to restore myself to who I once knew myself to be…a writer.
My first week in town, I went to the mercado and purchased what I thought was a fresh bowl of albondigas (meatball soup). After taking a long walk and climbing the steps of El Chorro to reach the peak streets of this colorful central Mexican town, I knew Moctezuma had spiked my soup with drano, because I fell ill that night with chills and fever.
My mother-in-law, concerned for me, recommended I visit La Dona Chole, “‘pa que te de una sobada…” My Spanish was getting better by the day, but I still had to put two and two together to understand that she was suggesting (more…)Tweet
I just came across this article on the Huffington Post called The Rise of College Alternatives and it was yet another reminder and comfort to me about the choices I have made in the last decade of my life.
I am a student of life, but in a different sense.
I didn’t make the list of students graduating summa cum laude . I was farrr from it. But that didn’t mean I lacked a thirst for learning. I just didn’t focus on ‘making the grade’.
When I was a sophomore in high school, you would’ve seen me in the library perusing many different sections or flipping through the pages of thick poetry books, looking up words I’d circled in Vogue articles, or reading about the life of Black Panther founder, Huey Newton.
I was simply curious…about everything that interested me.
You would never have imagined that I was nearly failing my chemistry class, even though I adored my teacher who resembled Elmer Fudd. But his adorableness wasn’t enough to get me to pay enough attention to protons and everything else that proved to be a foreign language to my ears and eyes in that class. I just wasn’t into it and knew I wouldn’t pursue it in life.
I wasn’t the best student when it came to what was always required of me, but I still never questioned my need for an education, for a degree.
When I graduated high school, I wasn’t able to ask my parents to borrow money to go to school (I’m still laughing about that one, Mitt) nor did I have a concrete plan for college. I was completely on my own when it came to that, but there was never a doubt that I would go or that I would finish. I was American and having the opportunity of a college education was ingrained in me.
I ended up getting guidance from a fellow college friend who walked the campus barefoot just to prove that he could. He helped me register and schedule my classes – interestingly enough, we had two classes together and he wanted to keep that pattern going the following semester because of his feelings for me, but his revolutionary ideas weren’t impressing me anymore.
Where he saw being bold in the face of authority or disdain for anyone’s upward movement in life, I saw limitations and struggle surrounding him and the life he was leading. That was not how I wanted to feel in my own life, so I eventually changed the company I was keeping.
When I graduated with a Bachelors degree in Finance, one thing I was grateful for was to declare myself debt-free from that experience. I worked in Banking and found a company that paid 100% of my college fees. I’m talking, they covered tuition, books, and even my cap and gown. It was a fantastic deal plus I was getting real world experience in the Finance world while educating myself.
There are always trade offs, though. I can’t look back on my college days and recant stories of me yelling in the lunch cafeteria “Food fight!!” or going to thriller parties with my nerd boyfriend from Lambda Lambda Lambda. I was too busy mixing and mingling from 9 to 5 like Melanie Griffith once did…as a total “working girl.”
I didn’t have the dorm life, the roommate you either love or hate, the parties, the football games, but when I left college, I LEFT it behind me…no debt, no creditors, no loans, and had a degree to call my own.
The choices YOU make in life shape YOU and determining the path right for you is all in your hands.
After getting my Bachelors degree from UT Dallas, I went back in to pursue a Masters in Aesthetic Studies- which is pretty much like an interdisciplinary studies degree where you curate the curriculum of your choice in the Arts. It was a whole other world and I knew UT Dallas was not known for its liberal arts program, or for much of anything liberal arts-related; it was a commuter school primarily for working folks and best known for its computer science and business programs. So I canceled that higher education plan out. I wasn’t willing to move forward, because I didn’t feel it was the best route to take.
So I went alternative and threw myself into the world. I went to Mexico and mingled with published authors, returned to Dallas to work alongside magazine editors at the best city news magazine in town, then went entrepreneurial and started my own personal concierge service, then got into the blogging scene. Who knows where I’ll go next, but that’s the beauty of life…it always changes and I am more than willing to go with that kind of flow.
Many routes that I’ve taken have actually felt more like detours, leading me down paths that have brought me knowledge about life and myself that no college education, professor, or former boss ever offered me.
Experiencing my life, making unconventional choices, becoming a mother, writing my first book, heartbreaks, and trusting in the unknown and my own intuition have been my best forms of education.
I highly recommend you pay more attention to what you want to learn, what calls your interest, what attracts you, who speaks to you, and follow that pathway. This is the very concept of living that I discuss in my book ‘Convivial | A Quest for the Masterpiece Within‘. Have you gotten your hands on a copy yet?
College degrees are a great accomplishment, but they don’t solve everything and they don’t entirely bring you the knowledge you need to live a convivial life.
This is truly a different economy. You’ve got to adapt to it. Your curiosity for learning, for delving into new environments, for connecting and building relationships with others, your willingness to adopt new habits and outlooks, your desire for continual improvement, your openness to criticism, your ability to be proactive and creative, and your courage to face your fears is what will take you through life successfully.
Determine how you best learn.
Declare the world your classroom.
Take your seat up front.
Pay attention to the lessons.
Choose the best teachers…
Life, Love, and your very own heart.Tweet
Do you shy away from conflict? If yes, don’t worry…there’s no need to lower your head in shame. You’re not alone in your desire to avoid disagreement or upsetting another with your opinions. I have certainly had my moments throughout life. But I’ve got a curious question for ya.
What if your lack of speaking up and sharing how you feel, what you see, what you believe, and what you have discovered for yourself is depriving others of a more enlightened view on life, or you?
I came across this moving talk on Ted.com (click~>) Dare to Disagree by Margaret Heffernan
where this former CEO of FIVE businesses speaks on the world’s need to be more daring to disagree, to speak up, to break silence, to be willing to see what no one else wants to see. She says,
“When we dare to break silence, or when we dare to see and we create conflict, we enable ourselves and the people around us to do our very best thinking.”
I’m not immune to the fear of conflict, but I am also more than willing to defend my point of view and stand up for myself more than ever now.
When it comes to men-women relationships, I feel strong. I don’t know it all, but I do know how to put myself first and this willingness to keep my personal well-being at the forefront has served me in my interactions with the opposite sex.
However, I have a weakspot for women. You see, I shy away from conflict with women and find that so ironic. My immense love and admiration for women creates this polar opposite effect for me and when I feel let down or disappointed or offended, I haven’t been the best at saying so.
When it comes to my fellow sex, I venture to see the work of art within each woman I come across, but I’ve been naive to think I would always get that same response back. I haven’t- THAT is for sure.
Could it be because I was bullied as a young girl or that I know women can be masters at the art of rejection and disapproval (ask any guy who’s wanted a date or dance with a female or just watch Mean Girls)?
I’ve experienced jealousy, envy and discord among pacts of women, in friendships, in family, and I know that if I truly show up, I will be either shunned or loved. That scares me and I’ve been guilty of playing small to avoid the less than pleasant feeling of rejection, but that is not the point here.
The point is knowing all of that doesn’t stop me from wanting to play a big game in my life and if you harbor the same sentiments, it shouldn’t deter you either.
When you recognize what you fear, what you hold back from expressing, guess what?
That’s your opportunity to embrace that fear and run with it…FORWARD, not backward and express it, do it, share it, say it, create it, because it is a force, a feeling deep within that belongs to you and deserves to be shared with the world in order to live and truly express your convivial nature.
What are those particular situations that seem to repeat themselves and thus bring about negative feelings within you–you know the ones that play over and over in your mind after you find that you didn’t react and say what you really should’ve said? How do you respond? How can you respond differently?
It’s never easy to open up and acknowledge where your work lies, but if you want to reach the other side of that feeling,- the convivial one, the empowered existence of someone pushing past their fears every day- you need to take a good look inside and figure out where the disconnection remains. Examine why you hold back and what can you do to change it.
You are the keeper of your fears, as well as the one who has the power to take the first step toward vanquishing them.
If we can all reach the belief that we have nothing to lose by speaking up, only everything to gain, then we can be certain and feel confident about creating the discussions, the relationships, the outcomes, and the life experience we wish for ourselves and the world at large.
What fears do you want to find a better response to? In what ways do you want to share your best “thinking” with the world even if it runs the risk of creating conflict?Tweet
On Sunday, my dear friend, Becky came to visit and we decided to have tarot cards drawn and our palms read by a psychic.
I always had this phobia about seeing a psychic…you know, the whole being afraid of what they might say, of hearing something you didn’t want to hear, but on this particular day, I was open to the idea.
We were two girlfriends looking to create a convivial memory together and do something out of the ordinary, so this seemed fitting.
Upon hanging up to confirm our appointment,
I asked Becky, “Did she have an accent?”
Puzzled, she said, “Uh…yeah…”
I gave an approving nod and said, “Good. Then hopefully she’s the real deal.”
Becky cracked up laughing and our mystical experience was now underway.
Soon we were ringing the doorbell to the Psychic’s office and exchanging pleasantries with her.
Becky went first and as I sat and observed the ongoing reading, I did my best not to (more…)Tweet
It’s nearly 2am,
the rain is pouring outside
and I’ve just gotta let you know this bit from the depths of my soul:
Give yourself credit for the little things you do EVERY day. Though the results may not show or reveal themselves as quickly, you must work toward your goals with the belief that EVERY thing you do does contribute to the big picture.
Want to live a convivial life? Don’t know how to make it happen or what that actually looks like for you? I hear ya, because I work at it day by day myself. Here’s what I have to say to that…
Trust in that which is unseen,
unknown, and (dare I say it)
give in to the craziness of your dreams.
I look myself in the mirror every day and fight to heed the words of naysayers. Wanna hear something really outrageous? These naysayers don’t even exist. They are figments of my imagination. They are puppets of my insecure, unrelenting ego- one aspect of me that encourages me to avoid sharing any experience and expression of my vulnerability, my humanity. But the ego is losing right now as I pour my heart out in the form of flowing words for you to read.
Perhaps only an hour before I felt inspired to share these words with you, I was experiencing self-doubt about my abilities and talents. And what brought that on? Spending time watching what someone else was creating vs. creating myself.
I was about to send my mopey ass to bed, but my thoughts were just too much to allow me to get some shut eye, so I gave in to a task that was lingering in the Draft folder of my inbox.
I completed it, took a deep breath before hitting send, then felt the weight lift off of me as it disappeared into cyberspace. The very next moment, I felt different, acccomplished, content. Proof that you’ve gotta get the work done, whatever it may be and you’ll feel better. Et voila!
One simple thing can contribute to the fast progression of your dreams.
I continue to believe that I am here to do something big, something meaningful. The same is true for you! Are you awake to what that “something” is?
I’m grateful to know what I am here to do, but its an ongoing struggle to know the “how” of getting it done. The answers will come for me just as they will for you, so have no worries.
Though it may seem lonely at times, you are never alone in your experience. You simply need to reach out and ask for guidance, help, directions, a tissue, a hug, a laugh.
The lightning is pretty fierce outside right now, the rain is coming down hard, and I sure would hate to find out in the morning that I left the windows down in my car, but for now, I sit here compelled to tell you to BELIEVE in the worlds that exist within your imagination…they are meant to be created and brought to life. Even if its one task at a time, one day at a time, while the rest of the world sleeps.
One year ago, I re-launched my website from the name Convivial Society to The Convivial Woman and during the month of January, I went on digital sabbatical to read and write to determine my site’s purpose and overall message. The theme that kept coming up in my notes was Art, a person’s need to express it, and the joys and struggles of doing so. As the year progressed, I somehow ignored that underlying theme and experienced confusion with my focus.
Was this my platform to preach to women about how they needed to conduct themselves as women? What kind of friends, mothers, wives they needed to be? Choices they should make in their lives? No, it wasn’t. It was simply a way to express myself creatively via the written word, the art form that chose me, but calling myself The Convivial Woman began to play tricks on my mind and make me feel a little self-righteous. Like any stage name, there’s a persona that comes with it and I was still trying to figure out the difference so I could play my part right. I wasn’t here to fake anything.
Recently, I’ve made the distinction:
The Convivial Woman is to me what Sasha Fierce is to Beyonce- the muse, a name given the creative power that comes from within and drives you to create and release your art into the world. I am Cheryl Chavarria, the writer also known as The Convivial Woman. Period.
Clarity of purpose, of vision, of thy self makes you an unstoppable force.
The Convivial Woman does not exist to impose some idea of what the perfect woman should be, or tell women how to behave, how to save themselves, their relationships, or how to love and better support one other, though we desperately need more mentoring of women by women.
The Convivial Woman represents something grander. She represents Art…the creation of it and the defiant spirit that accompanies it. She exists to praise and promote human creativity and the idea that a work of art resides within each of us.
It’s about the art of convivial living, which centers around discovering the art and life within you, and making the conscious choice to express it as only YOU can do.
2012 is going to be a Work of A.R.T.
This year, The Convivial Woman is going to be all about making A Return To creative origins. For me that’s writing. What is it for you?
My focus is to write about how I lead, not necessarily how to lead, a convivial life, and what the art of convivial living means to me as I dedicate myself to the practice and creation of art, as well as the struggles that come with it.
In making the choice to follow your art, you will come to know your power and live a convivial life, for life itself is art. Whether it be a book, a business, blog, necklace, cake, lesson plan, a baby, new body / life for yourself, or even a simple meal for your family, it requires the courage to create. If you’re heart is in it, then it’s bound to be art worth admiring.
You are a Masterpiece. Live accordingly.
This is the message of The Convivial Woman, what I’m inspired to live by, and want to share with you. By pursuing my heart’s desire to write, I hope to encourage you to do the same, whatever your art may be, for that is the journey we share.
Go forth and create your reality,
Hello kindred spirits. It’s been a while since my last “inscription.” WARNING: This blog is the mother of all blogs I’ve written. I’m playing catch up to cap off the year so hold tight and hang with me for a moment. I have much to say.
Since announcing my move to Austin, I’ve been quite the gypsy mama, traveling back and forth from Dallas to Austin. My husband and I have been on the house hunt since renting out our home in November and haven’t hit gold yet, but I’m patient and holding out for the most convivial home of them all. It’s out there and I’m ready to plant my feet on the grounds of the State Capitol of Texas, or somewhere close enough.
Changes are brewing on the convivial home front…
This being in limbo, not knowing where my family will hang their hat and call home screws with a lot. With any kind of move you make, there is no way it cannot change you, and it definitely plays tricks on your mind.
I like to know where I’m going, what the plan is, a woman who, as one friend put it, “requires a lot of answers,” and when there are so many unknowns, well, I’m gonna get antsy, uncomfortable, and I’ll do my best to keep my irritability in check, but I can’t guarantee it.
Not knowing where I’m settling causes unsettling feelings about what to plan for, what to talk about, and it’s created some resistance about writing- really just blogging. You see, I’m a perfectionist (I know…I’m working on letting up) and I put these expectations on myself to crank out a “masterpiece” and share something worthwhile, something profound, and eye-opening, with you, every time. And yet it’s a blog. But it’s much more for me. (more…)Tweet
R.E.M. sings about shiny, happy people holding hands and it’s a song that can stir me to sway back and forth with arms flowing upward, but having everyone put on a happy face and use flowery words when things are tough or uncertain isn’t what gets my ass moving to create change in my world.
I’ve got to dislike something, feel uncomfortable, lost, violated, offended, cheated, unappreciated, held back, all that good stuff in order for me to react. The straight-shooters, the ones who don’t deal well in sugar-coating a situation, who don’t mince words and “ponder on things”, the ones who go after a solution, a goal, a seemingly unrealistic dream with fierce determination are the people who speak to me, and the ones who truly get me.
This is the same breed of “response-able” people that beat writer, Jack Kerouac describes below…
“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!'” -Jack Kerouac
I’m reminded of one mad friend who gets mistaken for being angry when people first meet him. Funny thing is, if asked how he’s doing by the same people, he’ll say in his deep, slightly intimidating Vin Diesel-like voice, “I’m happy as shit.”
Does it make sense to compare happiness to shit? I’d say, if you choose to be content amidst apparent chaos, that’s a show of strength and wisdom, but don’t confuse it for a person who wears a permanent smile to cover up reality. Face the facts, then take your faith, courage, and will to act and get through the situation or change it altogether.
Sometimes, my husband uses the word “madness” when describing my anger and secretly, I like it because…
Life is madness…especially as a woman and I make every attempt to rebel every day.
I encourage you to do the same! Question your place. Don’t play the game. Want more…less…better, but never whatever. Speak up. Learn when to offer someone love vs. truth (psst…your honest opinion is only appreciated when it is solicited).
Put attention to your desires and all the fear that accompanies them, then…stir the pot, rock some boats, and do something about it. The Convivial Woman is all about seeing some jaws drop, aren’t you?
Speaking of the desire/fear combo, did you know I’m writing a book? The Convivial Woman, a compilation of stories and cheeky wisdom from one sensual, sublimely complex woman to another. Yes, it’s in the making, so stay tuned! And remember…
You are a masterpiece. Live…mad.
For news on The Convivial Woman book project, event news for The Convivial Supper Club (soon to be launching in my new homebase of Austin, Texas baby!), and special offerings, get your name on my one and only convivial list! And you can’t forget to join the convivial party and conversation on Facebook or follow your interests on Twitter too!Tweet
“People will forget what you say, what you do, but they never forget how you made them feel.”
Rejection…being judged…it happens to us all.
I’ve certainly had my fair share of rejection. Like these moments in particular…
I’m in New York at a conference that promotes authenticity, love, and support for your fellow woman in business. After the first night’s activities, I get invited to have dinner with some women whose work I love and support, then (more…)Tweet