No Place Like Home

           February 2007.  My sister was battling an aggressive form of ovarian cancer. My father had died the previous June. My real estate appraisal business was feeling the pinch of the declining economy, despite my working seven days a week. I was 50 years old.  I realized that I had three options: I could have a heart attack. I could have a nervous breakdown.  I could take a vacation.

            Luckily, I had the presence of mind to take a vacation. And not just any vacation.  Armed with a copy of Suzanne Braun Levine’s   “Inventing the Rest of Our Lives: Women in Second Adulthood,” I gave myself a sabbatical.  Hawaii:  28 days on Maui to look at my life and try to figure out if where I was in life was where I had wanted to go.

Inside the Cyclone

            First, some history. February 13, 1977. Those who know me well know the significance of that date. At 20 years old, I was suddenly homeless. During my senior year at LaSalle College, I lived in six different places.  Somehow, I  managed to get my degree.  With honors, no less.

            But dreams of graduate school, teaching, writing seemed suddenly out of reach.  For more years than probably necessary, life became a matter of survival. I never believed I had a choice in the matter.

            Fast forward to July 1991. By my mid-thirties, I had surmounted those real and imagined obstacles, with a sense of accomplishment. I had come to Cape May with the promise of a partnership in, and eventual ownership of, an appraisal business.  But the man with whom I partnered didn’t tell me (and maybe did not know) that he had terminal cancer.  Within a year, ready or not, I was on my own.

Over the Rainbow

So, as I sat on the beach in Lahaina - humpback whales breaching just beyond the breakers  and Lanai in the distance - I asked myself:  What if February 13, 1977 had never happened?  What if I had made other choices in July 1991?  

            Two dreams came to mind immediately:  I wanted to write and I wanted to work with animals.

            So I set out to see if those dreams were possible.

Follow the Yellow Brick Road

            I sent out my first resume in February 2008, after downsizing my business in Cape May and making sure my employees had places to go. The employment scene was daunting:  resumes were sucked into an electronic black hole, never to be heard from again.  But I had a dream.

            I rented a cottage in Pennsylvania to be closer to the job market and my family.  And sent out resumes. I went to seminars on career changes for aging Baby Boomers. And sent out resumes.  I finished the final draft of my first novel. And sent out resumes.  I took classes in pet first aid and animal communication.   And sent out resumes.   I enrolled in a six-month course for veterinary assistants and passed with flying colors.  And sent out resumes.

            I volunteered at the Pennsylvania SPCA and Philadelphia Animal Care and Control Team.  And sent out resumes.  I joined in a blog with three other creative women.  And sent out resumes.  I taught creative writing classes and line dancing classes at Montgomery County Community College.  And sent out resumes.  I taught culinary arts classes to children from four to fourteen years old.  And sent out resumes.

            If I only had a brain…In May 2011, I landed what I hoped was the prelude to my dream job:  I became a client services representative at University of Pennsylvania School of Veterinary Medicine’s New Bolton Center in Kennett Square, Pennsylvania.  Part time.  Second and third shift.  The drive to Kennett Square from East Norriton put 300 miles per week on my car and cost me nearly a day’s pay for the gas.  No matter.  I was finally where I wanted to be.  But, after fifteen months, my “reward” for being a competent, dependable employee was a change in shift:  still part-time, but six days on in a row.  Longer hours.  All  third shift.  I lasted a month before I surrendered and resigned.

            If I only had a heart…But all was not lost.  My experience at New Bolton garnered me a position as a veterinary assistant/receptionist at a lovely small animal practice in Phoenixville.  Three days a week.  Eight-mile commute.  Lower pay.  No benefits.  But the chance to get some hands-on experience with dogs and cats and to put my training to good use.  I am proud to say I can scruff a cat or restrain a Rottweiler when called upon to do so.  But after a year, I realized the position had no chance of becoming full time.  And no opportunity for benefits.  I needed to move on.

           If I only had the nerve…Enter my dream job:  a full-time receptionist/veterinary assistant position at an animal hospital in Center City.  Second shift.  Promise of humane wages.  Benefits.  No weekends. The commute on the train was a treat after years of driving. I loved strolling the sidewalks of Philly again. The hours were manageable, the clients divine.  The catch?  To avoid possible litigation, let me just say that, in less than 90 days, my dream dissolved into a nightmare.

Ruby Slippers

            The weekend this past October -- when I realized I had spent all of my money, downsized my business to a
skeleton of its former self, and nearly abandoned my weary little house in Cape May -- seemed the antithesis of those mornings in Maui.  What had I gained chasing after my dreams?  I applied the same questions I had asked myself in 2007 and came to a simple conclusion…

There’s No Place Like Home

            Oh, I didn’t know it in February 2007.  Having lived so much of my life in what felt like survival mode, I never realized how many choices I had already made.  

Or how much of a home my home in Cape May truly was.  I have no regrets.  I believe I needed to check out what might have been, to walk streets I once walked, dream dreams I once dreamed.  Going back to where I once was showed me who I truly am. Now, I know  I am where I am because where I am is where I want to be.

And, when the cold water of reality ‘liquidated” my dreams, my family, my friends, my clients and my house in Cape May welcomed me back with open arms.  

 As if I had never gone.

Watch a video to see what Dorothy learned.

             Have you ever wondered if you made the right choices?  Have you ever gone “Over the Rainbow”? What have you learned?

Have You Learned The Alchemist Secret to Realizing your Dreams?

The Alchemist is one of those books that I bought after repeatedly hearing it was a must read—and then it sat unread for a couple years in the must-read pile on my bookshelf with about a dozen other must-read books.  

In March, I took it and most of the pile on vacation with me, figuring if they were the only books I had with me, I’d finally check them off my list. 

In one of life’s coincidences that I suspect isn’t a coincidence at all, March turned out to be exactly the right time for me to read it. 

The Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho is what I term non-fiction disguised as fiction—a fable-like tale about the four obstacles that block our courage, holding us back from realizing our dreams.  

The first obstacle is being told repeatedly our dream is impossible—and believing it.  The second obstacle might surprise you--it’s love. The idea is that we put our loved ones first and often forfeit our dream rather than neglect them to singularly pursue it. The next two obstacles are both about fear. Third is the understandable fear of failing and Fourth—like love it might surprise you—the fear of realizing our dream—which is often due to guilt or insecurity. 

For me, the timing for reading The Alchemist was so perfect because it coincided with realizing my dream of publishing my first novel, Peace by Piece. You might see publishing as the end of the journey, but to me it presented a new set of obstacles—the dreaded learning curve to social network and market. Here’s what my obstacles sounded like in real life.

·         I'm not a techie, I can't do this computer mumbo-jumbo online marketing stuff  (First obstacle)

·         Even if I could learn to social network and market, it will be so time consuming, I’ll never have time with Jim (Second obstacle)

·         What if I spend all that time social networking and marketing and still no one buys my book? (Third obstacle)

·         What if I’m successful and Oprah, or Ellen, or Katie discover Peace by Piece and tell women to read it? How would my life have to change? 

The Alchemist’s secret is in understanding that in spite of being worthy of our dreams, we all hit obstacles and fall down—and that reaching your dreams is about BELIEVING you will always get up one more time than the number of times you fall. 

Do you believe you are worthy of your dreams? And, what will you do to pick yourself up the next time you fall down?

 

What Would Regis Do?

I had a weird and funny dream last night that Regis called to say how much he loves our blog. What was Regis Philbin doing in my dream?

Could the connection be that Regis recently retired and now my employer is offering an early retirement program and inconceivably, somewhere between rewriting my novels, prepping for my first ALS bike ride, and contemplating long board lessons, I grew old enough to qualify!

As a teen, I was fixated on my age, impatient to turn 16, then 18, then 21. Still single in my mid-twenties, I was constantly aware that the clock was ticking and I was behind schedule—unmarried, childless, renting instead of owning, trying on careers.

In my late twenties, I found my professional niche in Human Resources, fell in love and married Jim, and stopped measuring life’s progress chronologically. That is until a little over a year ago, when someone mentioned a retirement investing option, but you had to be 59 ½ to qualify. My immediate reaction was, “Well forget that, I am way too young.” 

And then it hit me— 59 ½ was only 3 months away!

I close my eyes and see the timid 18 year old who quit nursing school because no matter what I did, I could not take away a burn patient’s pain, the adventurous 20 year old who quit a promising job at the telephone company. Yep, back then there was only one—and I quit Bell Telephone not just once but twice—the first time to backpack through Europe and the second time to spend the summer at the shore. I can still see my Uncle Yatch’s bewildered expression when he said, “No one quits the phone company! They have the best pension plan.” Pension Plan?  I am not sure I even knew what that meant. I was 21, who cared?

The years rolled by —years filled with love and family and friends and losses and job changes and memories and achievements and lessons learned. So here I am at 60, qualifying for early retirement, yet in my heart and head most days I am still that tentative and inquisitive young girl.

Years ago, a co-worker named Mary Mac Donald gave me advice that has guided many decisions in my life, “You don’t need to make every decision as if it is for the rest of your life. You can always change your mind.”

I have quit jobs before, but the decision to stay or early retire feels like the exception to Mary’s rule.

So, what would Regis do?

Do you have any sage advice?