Erin's Journals

Just a thought… True friendship resists time, distance and silence. [Isabel Allende]

I’m taking a week off journalling this week, and I hope you’ll understand. My bestie Lisa Brandt arrived safely and drama-free on Saturday (last year, you may recall, she was without her suitcase for three days while it “found” her).

Tonight we head out for dinner and then Drag Queen Bingo with our illustrious host Bella D’Ball. I’m sure we’ll have lots of laughs and we’ll share them with you when we do our Facebook Live this Thursday at 7 pm Eastern (4 here).

We know it’s our last trip to the US for a long time, so we’re taking everything in, all in finer detail than ever before.

So as I type this, we’ve just finished a nice long talk – one of many shared and to come – and I know you’ll forgive me for not spending time on my laptop when Lisa’s here.

We hope you’ll join us on Facebook this Thursday! You can let us know you’re coming today on the page and there’s no obligation to show. Just put it in your calendar now and hopefully we have a good hour together.

And thanks for coming by.

Just a thought… Your time on earth is limited. Don’t try to “age with grace.” Age with mischief, audacity and a good story to tell. [Case Kenny]

Welcome to a new week. If you’re like me, you’re trying hard not to focus on anything today but your own wellbeing and peace of mind. We do what we can; all the rest is out of our hands.

My friend Andrea has been here since last week and flies back into the frigid GTA tomorrow. We’ve had so many talks: from exchanges about the Let Them Theory (she brought me her hardcover copy; I’ve listened on audiobook) to excitement about a new chapter in her life and career. We’re of similar age and her dream job has just come to fruition, her child is in the second semester of university life and her husband is out of the woods after some serious medical challenges. Her time here has been like a rebirth, just as I feel about being in this peaceful pocket in a turbulent country.

One of Andrea’s favourite sayings is “Age Audaciously.” In fact, a woman she admires, Harvard-trained sociologist, author and Wayfinder life coach trainer Martha Beck talks about an acronym called WIG. It stands for Wildly Improbable Goals.

But Andrea has changed this in her own mind and life to WAG: Wildly Audacious Goals.

What difference does one word make? We’ve been talking about that very thing. See, to us, “improbable” are the odds of writing a bestselling book, while “audacious” is writing the book to begin with (yes, I’m using myself as an example). “Improbable” means, yeah, it’s not likely going to happen, but “audacious” puts the control in your own hands; it takes bravery, risk and a certain “to hell with them” attitude.

That’s why as Queenagers we’re embracing the “Age Audaciously” mantra. Wear that outfit. Take that stage. Write that email. Introduce yourself. Make new friends. Reconnect with old ones.

These last suggestions come to mind as an epidemic of loneliness and isolation continues to grip so many worldwide. Reading The Let Them Theory reminded me that I’d let a friendship in Sidney, BC slip through my fingers and I’ve reached out to start to rectify that. Instead of sitting at home waiting for life to start up, I have to get out and do something to make it happen.

Changing WIG to WAG is another way to jump start life. Sure, in the dead of winter it may not feel like you’ll want to, but this is the time to plan and build dreams. We cannot control much, but we can improve what’s at hand. And even in these darkest days, that spark of hope can be enough to keep us looking ahead.

Here’s a reminder that fellow Queenager Lisa Brandt and I will drop a brand new episode of our podcast Gracefully and Frankly this Thursday. If you haven’t caught up with episode 109 you’re welcome to do so. Remember, it’s free, it’s just a click away and we’ll keep you company no matter what you’re doing. It’s also such a joy that it keeps us sparking, too. And maybe even sparkling at times!

Just a thought… Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. [Steve Jobs]

As you may know, if you follow me on Facebook, I’m down here in California for a few months. Thankfully, we are safe: there were some unusually strong winds last Thursday, but other than dealing with their messy aftermath of debris from trees, and furniture blown around the yard, we have been spared anything even remotely like the horrors of the hurricane of fire that winds have wrought in the Los Angeles area. Those affected are in our thoughts every hour of every day. As I swept up leaves and garbage that made its way to our yard, I thought: Thank God these aren’t ashes.

My stay here (solo now as Rob went home Boxing Day, and which is half over) has been a badly-needed spiritual reset with daily meditation, exercise and a feeling of peace that has alluded me for quite some time.

What I am most definitely not at peace with is spending our anemic dollars in a country that has spun off its axis (again) and is barrelling down a dark and troubled road. And seeing posts on social media (not aimed at me, specifically) such as “Friends don’t let friends vacation in the US!” have been more than just pecking at that bubble of serenity. I’m struggling with the morality of supporting anything to do with FOTUS (Felon of the United States), while weighing it against the reasons we want to be here in this politically sane state.

Once again, I am glad to be learning to say “Let Them.” It’s a lesson I’ve needed for a long, long time. As I continue to learn, I find myself wishing this book had come out 40 years ago. What a difference it would have made in my life (including money saved on therapy)!

You see, for my entire public life, which started at 17 and continues in some form or another some 45 years later, my desire has been to please every single listener/reader/viewer. On radio, for example, if someone was upset about something I said (or worse, that they thought I said), I would go out of my way (and sometimes, my mind) trying to win them back. You never, ever wanted to lose a listener.

As of this writing, the criticisms about our choice of where to escape the damp, chilly Vancouver Island winter have been few. Okay, just one: a downright rude Facebook post that came on Christmas night after we’d had an unexpectedly blissful day. It was taken down by the poster shortly after she wrote the words “SHAME!” (and a few more) about our choice of coming to the US for a few months.

That post bothered me; like most criticism, I wondered if, in her cruel way, she might have been right, even though Brené Brown taught me well that “shame” is a word you never, ever throw at anyone – most of all yourself.

I have had a few weeks to think about it now, framed by the wisdom I’ve been taking in via audiobook every day. Still, I’ve been making a list of defensive reasons why this is the place that feeds my soul.

Have I thought of other destinations for next year? Yes. But being someplace where I: a) know the area roads, b) can be left comfortably to reside and drive on my own, c) speak the language, and d) know the currency, are also vital to my sometimes fragile peace of mind. We even owned a house here briefly (circa Covid) for heaven’s sake.

This area around Palm Springs, about a two-hour drive from the tragic tinderbox that is the LA region, is where my parents spent joyful, SAD-free winters, and where at this time of such flux on the house sale front back in BC, we feel grounded. So we rented again, prior to the election. I mean, who could have predicted…?

I don’t know what we’re going to do later this year. Having something to look forward to during the dreary fall/winter has become important to us, and being in a location that makes me a better person all around is equally vital. I know we’re damned lucky to have the ability and opportunity. I know.

In the problems of the world, and yes, even this blessed/cursed blue state of California, mine are but a bean, never mind a whole hill of them. Yet, here I am, somehow feeling that I need to justify our decisions and stave off judgment. As if I have any control over what a person thinks! (Thanks, Mel Robbins.)

Like all of us, I have a lot to learn in this journey of growth, and I am but a pre-schooler as I try to change a lifetime of literal and figurative people-pleasing. If my decisions are not someone else’s preference, that’s okay. My mental health is coming first (for a change). I would wish the same for you, within the parameters of your own moral guidelines and practical capability, as I hope you would for me.

If not, I’ll let you – and you let me.

Lisa Brandt and I will be talking about this on Thursday in Episode 109 of the Gracefully and Frankly podcast. Haven’t caught 108 yet? You’re missing a really good one (if I do say so) and can do so for free at G-and-F.Simplecast.com. Just click and enjoy. And if you want to offer feedback on what you’ve heard, we welcome that, too.

Just a thought… Be kinder to yourself. And then let your kindness flood the world. [Pema Chödrön]

Welcome in, my friend. It’s a new year (which you’ve undoubtedly noticed by now) and for me, a time to adjust goals. If you’re among those who say, “Well, two-thirds of people who set resolutions abandon them within a month,” you’re right. But don’t forget that one-third that are still keeping them! That’s not quite a glass half-full, but it will have to do.

Whether it’s thanks to the flip of the calendar or a much-needed scenery shift, I’m getting my optimism back. 2024 was an Annus Horribilis (to quote the queen that didn’t feature Freddie Mercury) in our lives. Between events in our home and in the world around us, I had an awful time getting out of bed some days.

So what has changed?

Two simple words: Let Them. I mentioned it in an earlier blog a couple of weeks ago. Basically, the Let Them Theory can be boiled down to a few ideas, but into which author Mel Robbins delves far more deeply than I will: you can only control your reaction to what happens around you. Do make a difference where you can! But as Stoicism and the Serenity Prayer and Buddhism and many great thinkers have articulated, the answer to coming to peace within is in how you react to what’s happening to and around you.

Sounds simple, right? Of course it isn’t! But just taking on that mantra (which, yes, I’m getting tattooed on my right forearm in a few months) has provided a huge shift in my whole being.

I’ve also started another book called Anti-Diet by Christy Harrison, a title I stumbled upon in a thread about something else completely. And this marks another big change.

See, for the past two-and-a-half years, I’ve adhered to a stricter-than-strict low-carb regimen. It’s not for everyone and I know that any plan that tells you fruit isn’t your friend is just…insane. I lost the weight I needed to, but now I’m exhausted with the rules and the denials of so many small pleasures. It’s time to cut myself some slack and point myself towards health instead of a size.

The brilliant writer Anne Lamott put it beautifully: “Refuse to wear uncomfortable pants, even if they make you look really thin. Promise me you’ll never wear pants that bind or tug or hurt, pants that have an opinion about how much you’ve just eaten.” I don’t have any yet, but once I lose the diet addiction and stop weighing myself (on not one but two different scales daily) life may get a little more pleasurable and I may have to send a few pair to the thrift store. At least my leggings don’t care.

Will I be able to stop a lifetime of obsession about calories, fat grams, net carbs and weight? Not in just a few weeks. Like any addiction (to which I’m most definitely prone) it is a struggle and I may have to look outside of a book for help. So many of us have been on diets or restrictions our whole lives. Numbers, numbers, numbers.

But finding joy in what is, and letting them, are the only ways I’m going to get through 2025 healthier and far happier than the year just passed. I was saying to my friend Lisa yesterday, “How will I feel at the end of this about everything I missed because I said, ‘no?’” If saying “yes” to a Christmas Day invitation taught me anything, it’s that the only thing standing in my way is me.

Grace. Forgiveness. Love. Hope. I may need to make room for more tattoos.

Don’t forget that my pal and fellow broadcaster Lisa Brandt and I have embarked on a wonderful Year Three of our Gracefully and Frankly podcast, and if you still don’t think they’re for you – well, you haven’t tried ours! Just click here and listen for free, thanks to our generous sponsors, enVypillow and SierraSil.

It’s only half an hour long and we’ll make you think, laugh and feel like you’re just sitting having coffee or tea with two friends.

If you’re here on this blog, you’re our people, Queenager. 107 Episodes await and we would love to have you join us. And we serve up a fresh one every Thursday. Thank you.

Just a thought… You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them. [Maya Angelou]

On this Christmas Eve eve, let me take a moment or two to share with you a few joyful decisions after a terribly hard year.

In addition to taking in the advice and meaning behind those two words “let them” that I shared in last week’s blog, I have continued to shift my perspective.

Rob and I came down to the Palm Springs area on the first of December with a few simple aims: delete Christmas from our hearts’ apps, and enjoy warmer weather away from the stress of a house that’s been on the market for seven (!) months, and the uproar of a condo that’s only half moved-into.

Although the latter concern is still taking up a considerable part of our brains, we also know that our realtor team back in North Saanich is doing its best. The rest – people’s reactions to the house, the market in general and all of those variables – are out of our control. We cross our fingers with each showing and try not to think about it, although continuously moving money around and waiting for that good news keeps the inactivity on the house front in the fore.

We’ve mostly held to our promise to shelve Christmas this year as we adjust to being alone again. But an invitation to dinner on Wednesday from a woman I met last year down here (thanks to my podpal Lisa), has changed the complexion of the holiday a bit. After hemming and hawing for a few days, we decided to join her motley crew of friendly stragglers coming over for meals on our laps and good company. And even Dottie and Livi are invited!

See, we realized that to stay home, watch Netflix and barbecue burgers would be us punishing ourselves. While I’m a huge proponent of doing what’s right for you around any holiday or significant date, this felt like a really great idea for us.

I didn’t bring any Christmassy clothes, so I’ll just wear a flowery sundress. But to my great amazement, when we saw this marked from $70 t0 $40 to $30 (gotta love Kohl’s, even if it IS in US dollars), Rob leaned in to the “what the hell” sentiment that accompanied our accepting the invitation. I even got him to pose in his Elf blazer right there in the store.

Our new year will hopefully continue on this path of once again holding on to what we know in times of uncertainty. Of making choices. Of throwing off the yoke of sadness and donning something stupid and garish just for laughs (or at least letting Rob do it).

Handling grief and depression has to be on one’s own terms (as long as you’re not hurting yourself). The response to this year’s new project Not a Mourning Person grief briefs (videos) on YouTube has given me fuel to keep going. I mean that in two ways: to continue to produce what I hope is meaningful and heartfelt content for those wearing our shoes, and to keep moving forward in my own life.

For a few years, having written Mourning Has Broken: Love, Loss and Reclaiming Joy helped keep the darkest of thoughts at bay because I knew if I just gave up, it would send the worst of messages to those who looked to that book for inspiration.

So I’ll say, as I did at my good-bye breakfast from the radio station eight years ago this month, thank you: You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I quoted the amazing Gladys Knight and the Pips song, and it had the parenthetical and unsaid addition (besides, of course, Rob, Lauren and her baby Colin). Our blessings have been both added to, and subtracted from, in the years since we moved west, but we have never stopped finding ways in which to be grateful.

Again, thank you. And Rob and I wish for you whatever you need these next few days and 2025 to be.