This. is Me.

Becky ziplining

This. is Me.

I ain’t necessarily skinny, or perfect, or predictable.

I have my flaws, and  Oh! they are many, and I can name them all.

I am a survivor of terrible things, but also a thriver –

I want new, different, and scary, all outside these walls.

I offer myself, unreservedly, to those who will care to listen,

Whether tiny, or medium, or tall tall tall.

My hero is Joan of Arc, because tho’ she did end on a burning stake,

She didn’t go quietly, or actually – at all.

Her energy was transformed to spirit and became legend and large,

And she forged a path and answered His call.

So when I am a ghost and my visage is faded from your view,

I want my legacy to be “CANNON BALLLLLLL!”





CS Lewis far better things

This last year has been a whirlwind of medical issues and disappointments, but it has also been very fruitful in the writing department!  I have made significant strides in the construction and editing of my book on vocational transitions; secured more interviews for the book, did (and re-did!) structure and practical issues, and generally, paid more attention to my book than I did to my blog.

I have spent much time trying to neutrally look at how I perceive the world, my past, my circumstances, and the larger issue of fairness. To try to figure out whether pursuing fairness and justice in life circumstances is worth the cost that you pay in the end.

I guess I have discovered this: that the answer is different for everybody. There are some battles worth fighting, and others that are destructive. There is more strife to be found in the pursuit of justice in some cases, than in others. So if I am truly seeking peace, I must face an unfair (or toxic) situation, assess it and then either move on or fix it.

If I stand at a blank wall, shaking my fist at it, it will neither move nor respond.

If I stand at a wall long enough to see a door through which I can travel, that is progress.

I wish that I were wise enough to immediately discern the difference! But alas: I am not.

In the last nine months, I have also discovered this: that an intellect in motion tends to stay in motion, and one at rest tends to begin to softly snore.

The more I write, the better I write, the better I feel, the more I write.

Find your passion, and keep moving! We can neither re-live yesterday, nor predict tomorrow.

So move ahead. Stop looking back.



Moments of Joy


     This has got to be the LEAST flattering photo of me taken in the last, oh, 41 years.  It’s also my favorite.

     One of the concepts I latched onto as the big four-oh approached was The Bucket List.  No, I don’t have a terminal illness, nor a death wish, nor a devil-may-care attitude about my life.  But I realized that there were LOTS of things that I had never tried, or thought of, as Becky Options.  Basketball?  Too short.  Mountain Biking?  Too fast.  Roller blading?  Not enough wheels.  And so on.

     Blogging?  Hmmmm.  I have a friend of two decades who has been prodding me for years: Go blog!  You’ll love it!  You can say whatever is on your mind.  But the thought of letting people into the dusty or murky corners of my mind didn’t sound very appealing; talk about risk!  But then I thought.  HUH. 

     I was THAT kid who rode their bike with no hands and of course, no helmet…did they even SELL bike helmets in the seventies?  I was that teenager who dared to watch the scary movie The Blob all by myself (that was when HBO first came out and they were showing all the movies that couldn’t get shown on the three major networks).  I was that young adult who was the unlicensed designated driver for all the parties I attended with friends – house parties, frat parties, raves, you name it – I corralled all my friends together and herded them like sheep to the car and made sure they got tucked in, instead of wandering off with some random guy.  I was that young person who worked for Clean Water Action and wandered house to house in Pittsburgh’s city neighborhoods, knocking on strangers’ doors and asking them to care about – and pay for – our environment (now THAT was early training on how to handle rejection!  And angry drunk people).  Talk about risk-taking!  Who was I kidding – I was a pro!

     My bucket list looks like this:  Caving.  Zip-lining.  Write a novel.  Give blood.  Try golf.  Travel to a foreign country whose first language is NOT English.  Force myself into public speaking for a cause that I care about.  Go to a hospice to visit with someone I know who is dying.  Attend someone else’s birthing experience.  Volunteer to cuddle with terminally ill babies.  Try out for “Survivor.”  Spend a week on an Indian reservation – and not spend nights in a hotel.  Go back to the Boundary Waters and truly EXPERIENCE it instead of being scared and mad the whole time about how difficult it is to portage, and sleep on the ground in 40-degree weather – in July!  Blog – and not give up when things get hard.

     And give myself over to joy by pushing past discomfort and defeating fear!

     May you be blessed today by joy, as well.  There’s enough to go around!