Twelve years ago, I set out to become a freelance writer. I started a blog (imported here), a Twitter and Instagram account. I checked out actual books from the library. I forced my friends to read my blog and then bugged them about what they thought. I applied for a cocktail waitressing job. And then, in a twist I didn’t even see coming, I became a life insurance agent for the next six years.

It’s hard to see your bigger picture when you’re in the middle of living it, but I trusted my internal compass. I moved back to New Mexico because of that job. My current career as a financial advisor is because of that job. It gave me an introduction to both sales and the insurance industry.

I traveled to small New Mexico towns year after year for annual enrollments — Silver City, Carrizozo, Ruidoso, Mora, Alamogordo, Carlsbad, Las Vegas, Deming, Raton and Truth or Consequences. Eventually my territory grew to include El Paso. I never said yes to those clients, but one day they simply appeared in my accounts tab, and I grew to love and respect El Paso. It’s an amazing amalgamation of cultures with genuinely welcoming people. Most importantly, somewhere along the way I met an Airbnb host who inspired my first novel. More on that later.

The insurance job taught me about the importance of both knowing and using my own moral code. I committed to being one of the good guys because I saw how terrible a lot of life insurance agents could be and how confused people were by the entire subject. I saw growth strategies that made me sick — all recruiting, no retention. I bulldogged my way through that first year and eventually became successful, mostly because I inherited 76 existing clients in New Mexico and later about 20 more in El Paso. I worked independently and rarely went to the Austin office. I qualified for the annual convention four of the years I was there and took two different friends as my plus one to Punta Cana and San Francisco.

The job served me well and I still receive renewal checks occasionally. In February of 2020, I tore my ACL skiing and had surgery on April 1st to repair it, right at the start of COVID. Once I stopped traveling, I realized how tired I was. Texas and New Mexico had very different approaches to handling the pandemic. Eventually, I just stopped producing. It was a contract job and after 12 weeks of no sales, my contract was terminated.

I never quit. I just faded away.

Fast forward to April 2021, when I decided to pursue financial advising and began studying for the SIE, Series 7 and Series 66 exams. I also went back to waiting tables that same month. My career in restaurants began at 15 and I have spent most of my life in the restaurant industry, ending my last chapter as an area manager for a Houston company right before getting into life insurance in 2014. I was crispy fried after that last management gig and wanted out of restaurants something fierce. When I started waiting tables again at 46, I was bitter for sure. The induction was rough, but the money was good and being able to clock out and be done with it was golden.

I passed my last exam in Fall 2022 and dropped a shift that first winter. I became a financial advisor with a large firm, working remotely with the leadership team, and grew my practice locally, starting in the restaurant where I worked. I opened IRAs and Roths for co-workers, and sold life insurance policies and opened 529s. My focus is on helping my people — hospitality people — with basic financial services, and I don’t have asset minimums. Santa Fe has great restaurants, but most are small and independent. No benefits.

In July 2023, I joined a friend’s existing practice and became truly independent as a financial advisor. I’m down to one shift at the restaurant now — Saturdays. I’ve gone full circle from jaded and bitter to genuinely grateful to work somewhere that allows me to come in for just one shift. I have a restaurant family that may be the closest and most tight-knit I’ve encountered in 35 years in hospitality. I love the actual work — talking about food and wine and helping people have a great time.

It’s taken its toll on my knees, though. That 2020 ACL and meniscus repair didn’t hold, and both knees are now arthritic. But one shift keeps me in it a little longer. Somewhere along the way I realized I’m not just drawn to restaurant work.

I may be addicted to it.

Which brings me to the present. I’ve had this idea germinating for years. In the past few months, it’s become clearer what I want to create. This is my first post of many more to come. This is my platform — GM Jane — and it’s filled with all the things that interest me. It’s personal history. It’s my writing, both old and new. It’s about restaurants and hospitality. It’s filled with stories, mine and other people’s. It’s a place for collaboration and connection.

Welcome, or if you are one of my 5 loyal readers who have been waiting a decade for my next post, welcome back and thanks for your patience.

Dia de los Musertos

Today is my year anniversary of walking through the doors of the insurance agency. I was lying on Kerri’s couch a bit hung-over the morning after Halloween and got an email about an interview that afternoon. I was excited about a brand new opportunity.

Upon walking into the third floor office and being handed a clipboard with a questionnaire and a room full of people dressed in suites and clearly here to interview as well, I almost turned and walked out. Three times while I was filling out the questionnaire, I almost walked out the door. The third time I was actually starting to stand and make a run for it when a colorful-headed woman with a Mohawk appeared in the doorway and said you can follow me.

After a dynamic presentation by the agency owner, I was pumped about an illustrious career as a training manager with the company. The owner and director were cool as shit. He was dressed in a pair of intentionally worn-in jeans, a colorful button down with a sharp vest and a bow tie. He sold the dream well that day. And I was buying.

The first months were brutally tough learning a new industry and how to sell right around the holidays. I was committed though like a bulldog that’s clamped down on its target. I was going to make my money back at the very least.

I finally got assigned a solid partner and we finally started making some money. And then we got pretty good at it and it became fun. The fun times were short lived and more stressful months followed. But I made it. My partner didn’t. None of my partners, except the guy I worked with in the very beginning, survived. Only a few do.

I constantly think about how jaded my boss must be with the 95% turnover. I guess that’s why we recruit so heavily. Balance.

I have come to enjoy many aspects of my job. I like travelling to see new parts of Texas and have fallen in love with Dripping Springs. I love meeting business owners and working with all kinds of cool clients, including Thirsty Planet Brewery and Jesse James West Coast Choppers. I really do feel good about getting people valuable life and supplemental insurance coverage so they are financially protected at the worst time of their lives.

Reflecting back over the past year, I realize how much I have grown as a person. There’s something about breaking into a new field that’s gratifying. I have more confidence in me.

Last year at this time when I was attempting at a career as a freelance writer, I didn’t know how to do it. I checked out a ton of library books on the topic and immersed myself in online and social media resources. I didn’t know how to sell my self and my work. After slinging life insurance for the past year, I definitely feel like I can peddle my own work.

At the agency in our Monday meetings there is a lot of talk of John Maxwell and goal setting. If you swing an ax 5 times every day in the same spot eventually the tree will fall. My thoughts always go straight to my writing and bypass a single thought about building my insurance career.

I am at a cross-roads again where I have to decide if I want to stay at a management level and the training responsibilities would increase again but so would the compensation structure. Or go back to just being an agent. I already tried to do that once, but instead landed in a purgatory situation, which has been nice.

After mulling for just a few days, I know my answer. I have always known my answer. I am writer and until I do that every day as my primary focus, I will not be truly happy.

A year later, I am wiser and re-committed. I will make it as a writer. It is happening. Now. I have a great day job that I am committed to. It definitely has its purpose in my life. For sure.

Happy Halloween! Here’s to adapting to the situation. Always! #mortonsaltgirl

Happy dog

So you know those friends you have that you haven’t talked to in forever, but your connection is still as strong as ever when you do? I am hoping that’s how our relationship is. I know it’s been a hot minute since I posted. And believe me when I say, it’s me, not you. Those of you who’ve been after me to post again, thank you. Seriously, your support is hugely motivational.

As I have continued down my path, I realized I didn’t really want to be a freelance writer after all. When it shifted from just writing whatever I wanted to actually making a living writing, it stopped being fun. In my last post I told you I found a day job in the life insurance industry, which is actually not boring at all, as I initially thought.

I jumped in head first, as I generally do. The first months were brutal. No money and much pavement pounding. Then I started getting good at it, got promoted to management, went to a leadership conference and came back pumped to go for the next management level.

And then I checked myself. There is huge potential to make a shit-ton of money and be 100 percent vested in just 10 years. Very attractive indeed. I realized, though, if I continued pursuing a full-time career path in the life insurance industry, it was at the cost of my other dreams. So recently, I took a step back and am pushing forward on both the writing and restaurant consulting paths. Currently, life insurance pays the bills and is truly allowing me the freedom to fully pursue my passions.

Slinging life insurance isn’t easy, but now I feel that I could sell just about anything. I travel around the great state of Texas to meet business owners and convince them to let me come in and talk to their employees about insurance. We actually give away a couple of no-cost policies as well. So it’s a win-win situation. It’s great checking out little Texas towns like Brenham, LaGrange and Luling. I have a much greater understanding of the geography and demographics of where I live, and I’ve eaten some pretty fantastic BBQ.

My father raised me to understand the importance of insurance and since I graduated college and was on my own, I have always been fully insured. I find providing valuable financial protection for families at the worst time of their lives, when they lose a spouse, or get in an accident or get a cancer diagnosis, actually feels pretty darned good.

I’ve cleared my roadblocks, re-booted my soul, positioned myself solidly between freedom and security. I am out of excuses. It’s go time! If the stories don’t come out of me soon and onto the page, I may implode or self-destruct.

Me on my 40th birthday.

I turned 40 this year and while approaching the dreaded milestone birthday literally brought tears to my eyes, once I turned it, I’ve had a much more “fuck-it” approach to life.

Fuck it! I’m 40 now. Not where I thought I would be in life, but fuck it, I am, so what do I have to lose but go for it full force?

Yeah, I’ll wear flowers around my head all day if I want to!

In full pursuit of a peace and joy-filled life, I started online dating. Apparently Mr. Right isn’t just going to walk into my living room to scoop me up off the couch to save me from a life of bitter loneliness. I was apprehensive as hell at first. But I have met some really cool cats I never would have had an occasion to meet if it wasn’t for the cyber-dating world. There have been, of course, a handful of not such great matches. I am only 5’4” and have been surprised to find out how many guys there are out there that are actually shorter than me.

Just because I didn’t get to ski in 40, doesn’t mean I can’t wear my helmet!

The best addition to my world, though, came to me through one of my roommate’s dates, coincidently the very same day my dating profile went live. She texted me and said her date was fostering a dog he rescued and was in search of a good home. I said about a year prior that I wanted to adopt a 4-year old, neutered Sheppard and Happy was exactly that.

I should have added healthy to that list too, because Happy is currently finishing out his final weeks of heartworm treatment (and doing great). He is the sweetest dog I’ve ever met and a true blessing in my world.

There’s the nutshell re-cap of my past 10 months. It’s good to be back. Thanks as always for reading. I promise it won’t be as long before my next post.

No, the pictures not real, but I thought it was a good throwback Thursday showing the start and the end of my cardboard sign modeling career that dates back to my reporter days in Charlotte. It illustrates, not only issues with the state of education today, but the struggles of a starving artist.

Only, I live with an amazing chef who keeps the fridge stocked with yummy goodness at all times, so there’s no starving going on here.

That being said, I did recently find a day job to pay the bills while I continue to write the great American novel and other creative ventures. It offers flexibility and ceiling-less income potential that pairs perfectly with my writing career and while I never imagined myself doing it, I think I am going to be good at it.

In the past six months, I have learned many truths about myself, one of them being that I don’t love freelancing as a sole means to income. I DO absolutely love writing and several of you reading this blog have reached out with supportive and encouraging feedback. Thank you for that! It is great fuel.

I have stories in me that I have long wanted to put on paper, which was the original catalyst for pursing a full-time career writing. However, sending out quarries and letters of introduction and then waiting, eagerly checking the mail every day for my self-addressed stamped envelopes to return to me with a story’s acceptance and constantly checking my e-mail for responses, has been counter-productive to my actual writing.

The first months were great because I had savings and was only focused on the writing part, not the money making. As the bank account dwindled, my focus became more and more about making money, which ironically shut down my creativity and blocked my writing. Thus the new day job so I can focus on writing for the sake of the craft.

I also realized that I need to break-up with the restaurant industry, maybe for good, but at least and most undeniably for now. It became clear to me when a recruiter found me on LinkedIn. In continuing to put myself out there in the cyber world, I updated my LinkedIn account. It was months ago when I wasn’t looking for a day job yet and especially not another GM gig, which is never just a day job. I was however intrigued by her email and impressed with the company and its unique concepts, so I agreed to a phone interview.

Initially, I was super pumped after the interview. Talking about restaurants, leadership and development and even food costs was both comforting and invigorating. I felt a high that I felt after a busy night in a restaurant, that sense of immediate gratification knowing that you killed it.

Very similar to a hangover after one of those slamming nights, was the reality of what I was actually considering again as I filled out the online application for another GM position. The anxiety I hadn’t felt in months, sat in my stomach like an iron dough ball. So I closed out the web page without finishing the application and figured that would stop things from moving forward.

They called me anyway. When I listened to the voicemail, I screamed so loudly the dog jumped. That was a pretty clear sign to me. I emailed the recruiter immediately withdrawing my interest. Persistently and respectfully, the current GM called me – twice. I emailed her explaining that I was on a new path that I wasn’t ready to give up on.

I guess breaking up with restaurants is like most of my breakups in life – long, hard and drawn out.

The great thing about facing truths when you are stripped down to the core of yourself is everything is simply clear. Here is my top-ten list of the truths from my past six months:

1. Who and what really matters in life

   • Family, friends, health, happiness, fulfillment, balance and spirituality.

2. Yoga and practice

   • Momma Cat (Jess’ Mom) told me a couple years ago that it was time to find a practice. She strongly suggested yoga. Last month we practiced together. On the way home she said, “Yoga is a game changer.” As always Momma knows best.

3. Retirement and savings

   • Dad’s words finally mean something real that I am working towards.

4. Structure can be an excellent thing

   • I thrive in situations where there is a clear path to success.

5. Money means something, but never everything

   • Success is a money magnet. It should be the focus and the rest falls in line.

6. If at first you don’t succeed TRY until you do

   • Yoda is a wise, green Jedi but he’s just a George Lucas character with the Power of the Force. The rest of us may have to try to get to do.

7. Wine and budgets

   • Turns out I’m not as big of a snob as I may sometimes seem and you can find value-driven wine that’s perfectly quaffable.

8. I am a writer

   • Period.

9. I really do live in a Red state

   • No matter how liberal Austin is, I live in Texas and these mid-term elections made me a little Blue.

10. Franklin’s BBQ is worth the 3+ hour wait

    • An Austin rite of passage that’s a must.

These boots were made for waiting…and that’s just what we did.

3 1/2 hours later…the fruits of our waiting.

Best brisket ever!

A chef should know!

Happy and satisfied! Hard to believe it all started with this little trailer. Proof that tenacity combined with talent truly pays off.

Once upon a time my mom was in a very similar place to where I am in life right now, only I have never connected to that fact until now. Being the free-spirited adventurer that I am, it’s easy to miss the dreams with less glitz and glitter; the ones that are rooted and grounded in place, family and tradition.

Dreams are as unique as snowflakes. Only the individual can know one’s dream and it evolves as we truly connect to our perfect paths. No one can tell us, or figure it out for us. We have to know what our pot of gold looks like or we just end up chasing rainbows.

I’ve always been drawn to risk takers. A couple of my best girlfriends in Austin have also recently left the traditional path and are pursuing entrepreneurial ventures of their own. (BTW-If anyone needs the best hair of your life or if you know a deserving elementary school teacher in need of being appreciated, shoot me an email.)

Several more of my friends have long been on a non-traditional path. I am fortunate to have in my circle of people: an artist/landscaper, a photographer, a restaurant owner and an actor/musician, all who answer only to themselves ultimately every day. I am so proud of all of them!

My parents had their dreams too and they live very happily in them everyday. That’s something my selfish 18-year old person or my passionate, fiery red-headed 28-year old self and until recently, my dream-chasing, 30-something self failed to recognize. I have always felt that they didn’t understand my pursuit of my dreams but this week I realized I never bothered to really understand theirs.

My father has had a 40-plus year career with the school district and still loves his job. He could have retired a couple of years ago, but he’s waiting for my mom. He warms and brightens so many peoples’ days with his congenial smile and genuine way everyday. Everyone knows his work truck and waves at him as he passes from school to school with the daily essentials.

Then there’s my mother, who at 42 had to find a new career. I remember this so vividly but not from her point of view, from mine. My Mom and Aunt’s daycare business of 15 years closed and she had to find a new job with retirement benefits.

“I was scared to death Cari,” she told me the other day.

I never knew that.

She’d been a business owner and a teacher of 2- and 3-year olds. She taught hundreds of kids over the years at the Learning Tree and makes Mary Poppins look like an intern. When I found out she was going to become a secretary and not work with kids directly, it pissed me off. I wanted her in the classroom molding the minds of our youth. It didn’t seem fair to me that she had to sit behind a desk.

When you’re truly meant to be someone though, a desk doesn’t stop you. Every year at Yankee Ridge, which is also the grade school that my brother and I went to, they have a BAD day. It stands for Beth Appreciation Day and the students in the behavior disorder program, all the teachers and staff celebrate and dedicate an entire day to my mother.

How naive I was as a teenager to think that my mother wouldn’t find her perfect path. She absolutely still works her magic with children and her light shines brightly. Whether it’s an independent or traditional path we’re on, our dreams are about letting our light shine so we can find our pots of gold.

Dad, Mom, Me and Little Bro at Busch Stadium for a Cardinals game. Too bad Mom and Dad won’t get to see Game 6 after all, but there’s always next season!

Slaying the resistance dragons is an on-going, daily and weekly challenge. Last week I dominated the battlefield! My main focus was to get myself completely ready for a Texas, bi-partisan, political event that I attended last weekend. The event was fantastic and will continue to payoff as I enter the Austin journalism scene.

The week leading up to The Texas Tribune Fest forced me to get my marketing materials in good order. I made business cards cheap and easy style. I wish I could say value-driven and efficient. Alas, you get what you pay for and it was just about having my name, contact information and blog address on a card I could hand out.

After many years of my byline hanging out in a closet on actual newspaper clips tucked away in a portfolio, I now have scanned, digital clips.

The Tribune Fest, held on the University of Texas campus, was 3 days of more than 100 speakers and 11 platforms addressing statewide issues from immigration, education, transportation and the ilk. I viewed it as a launch to engage my political mind and pen in my new community.

Yes, nearly 3 years in Texas and I am finally becoming an official Texan, new Driver’s License and all.

In volunteering for a Saturday morning shift, I received a free badge ($250 value) to attend the event. It was an excellent induction to Texas politics all under one festival umbrella. My volunteer buddy, John, a political-science major from Baylor, proved to be the Cliff Notes version of the Encyclopedia Britannica of Texas politics.

Daniel Witt, Tesla; Justin Kintz, Uber; Lee Jones, B-cycle; Rick Casey, Moderator and Mayors: Ivy Taylor, San Antonio; Nelda Martinez, Corpus Christi; Lee Leffingwell, Austin

I attended two transportation panels in the afternoon. The second, “The New Urban Mobility,” featured the 3 mayors from Austin, San Antonio and Corpse Christi. Nelda Martinez from Corpse is quite simply a bad ass with progressive, out-of-the-box thinking and an affable, politically savvy personality. Ivy Taylor, who was appointed in July as San Antonio’s mayor, is impressively composed, educated and professional without being too political.

In the last event of the day, I live tweeted from Wendy Davis’ One-on-One with Texas Tribune Editor Evan Smith – twice! Engaging in real-time politics and commentary was an invigorating experience that ignited the fire in my belly.

Back in the day, as you can see from the clip above, I covered local politics in Charlotte, NC. The way a city grows fascinates me. As I continue to hone my focus as a writer, after the initial submergence into learning all the different ways to make money freelancing, it becomes clearer how I want to spend my time and efforts.

As I continue to forge down the path, I draw my inspiration from three characters: Dory, Mr. Miyagi and Yoda. They all motivate through simple messages. I find myself singing, both in my head and out loud, the song that Ellen DeGeneres sings as Dory in Finding Nemo:

“Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming.

Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming.

What do we do? We swim, swim.”

This is a great tactic to fighting resistance. As long as you’re moving in a forward direction, you’re beating resistance. For me, it’s ticking off an on-going and continually revised To Do list of everything I need to do to keep myself moving forward down the right path.

As Mr. Miyagi insists in The Karate Kid in the conversation with to Daniel-san paraphrased here; it’s all about decisive action.

Walk on road, hmm?

Walk left side, safe. Walk right side, safe.

Walk middle sooner or later (squish).

Either you do Yes or do No.

You do Guess So… Squished like a grape.

Understand?

What I now understand clearly is that I am a writer.

What that means exactly will continue to evolve.

Everything organic always does.

As Jedi Master Yoda teaches:

“Do or do not. There is no try.”

I choose do.

His words flash in my brain brighter now than they ever did back then. For the first time in my life, all the hours in the day

belong to me. At times, freedom can be overwhelming. I just finished Steven Pressfield’s: The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles, filled with golden nuggets of inspiration and advice. The first part of the book focuses on human Resistance to freedom.

Self-mastery calls in the subject of time management. Over the years I have read books, listened to cd’s, attended seminars, taken and even taught classes about time management. It’s still a concept that my brain has trouble wrangling into submission.

Perhaps it was all those years as a restaurant manager, I could have an entire To Do list for the day, but as soon as I walked through that restaurant door my time was no longer mine. The health inspector shows up and the walk-in cooler’s not holding temp, the restaurant manager calls in sick and there’s a guest complaint that went directly to the CEO waiting in my In Box. Good luck getting anything on the To Do list done.

So when I stare at a “Chunk Your Time” spread sheet of all the hours in the day that I acquired somewhere along the way, I end up just setting it back down…blank. Some days I may start working at 7 am and others like tonight I may still be working at midnight. A couple of nights I’ve stayed up writing until the 4 am. I can’t plan that inspiration is going to strike late and hold me for that many hours.

Instead, I start with identifying all the non-negotiables in my life and work my days out from there. This concept was introduced to me by the president of my former company just before I got promoted to Area Manager last year. We sat down with a bottle of sparkling wine and had one of those obligatory corporate conversations.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” he started the conversation.

Solidly situated in my 30’s, I giggled at the question generally posed to single-digit humans and high schoolers.

He wasn’t kidding.

“I always wanted to be a high school history teacher,” he said.

Interesting…

I really wanted the promotion. I wanted to move forward in my current career. I told him above all I wanted to have balance in my life…and live healthy and do yoga. That’s when he pulled out the non-negotiables speech.

“Do yoga. It’s one of your non-negotiables,” he said trying to sound supportive. I’m pretty sure his 6-foot-plus towering frame had never attempted a down dog in its life. For him, his non-negotiables were his kids’ school and sporting events and church on Sunday.

I’ve always known what I want to be when I grow up. I just spent years doing something else I am good at. After I abandoned the writing-career direction upon leaving The Leader Newspaper, I’ve always had a pen close at hand. I’ve dabbled with some Chef bios and was always the make-it-sound-not-too-bitchy e-mail aficionado for my managers. I did some freelance work in Chicago and have wine boxes filled with journals and poetry that date back to age 10. But until now I never dedicated any real time to developing the craft into something more since all those years ago.

Funny thing, turns out writing is one of my non-negotiables.

I am figuring out my daily, weekly and monthly schedules and adjusting as I get further down the path. Right now its pretty simple, put in as much of time and energy as possible. It’s not a science or a grid. It’s navigating unfamiliar territory with all the ovarian fortitude I can muster. Slaying the Resistance dragons through action and organization and doing what has to be done.

I owe both my former bosses a thank you today. Tucker, you were so right! Now that my time literally translates to money, I am much more efficient with it. Plus myself, my voice and my writing style have had time to mature. That 24-year-old kid only lives in the memory of my journals now.

And Rick, I am living the dream now that I know what I want to be when I grow up. Sometimes its just gotta come full circle.

South Lamar Bridge — Austin, Texas.

Standing on the precipice of a career-shifting platform, I know it could only happen exactly now. Everything else needed to happen first. Every gut wrenching, tear-filled, sidesplitting, heartbreaking, peace-filled, joyously beaming moment of my life needed to happen to get me here to today.

A great force pulled me to Texas. The thing that actually brought me here dissolved upon contact with the Long Horn air, but the force didn’t care. Austin extended its velvet carpet welcome and I settled in comfortably.

Three years into my Chicago-life, my verdict was still out on whether I liked living in the city. Just shy of three years in Austin and I am certain this is where I’m supposed to be right now.

There are those catalyst moments that pull me down one fork of the road as opposed to the other. That exact right, ear-splittingly, Kerouac-esque, roman-candle-exploding-across-the-stars-like-spiders

crescendo of blinding blue centerlight that guides the way. 

It’s about thinking and processing, as much as it is feeling the way through these moments on guttural instinct. We can’t really know what’s going to happen next in our lives or even what’s supposed to. We can predict, plan and prepare. We can do our best to control. Ultimately, what happens can only be directed by a solidly-rooted core supporting perfect intention that is synced with mindful actions. 

Striving to become the best version of myself, I’ve learned to trust my Divine right path knowing I will always find what’s best for me. As I listen to the energy that exists beyond on material possessions and ego, I open my mind and release the outcome. 

I let go of all those expectations that stuck to me like sticker-burrs I’d collected on my forged life path. I dispel society’s demand for a normal life. I follow the excited ball of electric energy burning deep inside my belly.

A childhood friend asked me recently if I regretted the decision not to go to graduate school right after college. I had been eyeing the Public Affairs Reporting program at University of Illinois – Springfield since my sophomore year in college. By my senior year though, my interest was just hanging onto its pre-determined, post-college plan.

When I didn’t get into the program initially I figured it wasn’t meant to be. Upon graduating at 22, I packed all my worldly possessions in my un-airconditioned, 5-speed Honda Civic and watched my Urbana-life disappear with the sun into the endless cornfields in my rear-view mirror. 

I was welcomed 10-hours later by the majestically crimson, North Carolina sunrise that engulfed the Asheville mountains as I headed on to Charlotte.

One week later PAR program director Charlie Wheeler called me. Apparently I had been at the top of the wait-list and he was delighted to offer me one of the 12 spots to join the UIS program. I accepted and planned to head back in August, making this just another lovely summer in the Carolinas.

Two weeks before classes began, I called Charlie Wheeler back and withdrew my acceptance. I had been freelancing for a local, weekly newspaper and was finding a good life for myself in Charlotte. It was an amazing program, but the thought of moving back to Illinois at that point and living in Springfield brought angst to my soul and made my teeth chatter deep in my skull.

Nope. I don’t regret it.

I’ve certainly thought about how different my life would have been if I had moved back and got a Master’s degree and an internship at one of the top publications in Illinois, which included the Chicago Tribune and the Associated Press.

Alas, that was not my path.

This is.

It all converges here and now.

After cliff diving and mountain climbing comes questions, answers and discipline. As I invite people to read my blog, I continue to reflect on why I am writing it. In my first blog it’s about the birth of my voice into the cyber world and public domain.

But what exactly is the purpose? Other than pandering to my creative curiosities and finally sharing my writing.

It’s the beginning of something tangible. It’s the first layer of my Platform that I build my business plan on as a writer in the freelance world. Drawing from multiple facets of my talents and utilizing all the marketing vehicles available to me.

Building a strong and diverse platform is paramount to be successful in the freelance world. Many freelancers are also consultants or speakers in their varying areas of expertise. For me that includes restaurants, general business practices and efficiencies, hospitality and customer service related matters. I’d be delighted to be a motivational speaker on effective management styles or perhaps on positivity and power of the word. That’s a possibility down the line, once I have established myself as a solid writer.

The thoughts are coming in waves of inspiration flooding my interior navigational system. Energies open and connect to the exact right path. My feet know the way. 

Then there’s books both fiction and non. I am working on a memoire-style tale of my years as a GM in Chicago and Austin. This has been in the works for some time as all my friends know because I have talked about it for so long. The 6-year mini-series drama finally ended this May allowing its GM star to re-focus and finally write.

The stories are thrashing about in the purgatory of my restaurant-ridden past begging to come to paper. I release that world transforming those experiences into words that will entertain, enlighten, encourage and engage my audience and finally tell my story, GM Jane.

As these stories materialize from my memory each key-stroke transports me to 2009, and I’m the GM of Blackbird. Embodying the wet-dish-rag-of-a-soul that I was back then tugs at a place in my ego that still makes me cringe today.

Which brings me to Practice. You can breath through even the most gut-wrenching of moments. Breathing it out and standing on the solid Platform that’s supported by its social media pillars.

Writing is a daily practice that makes the entire Platform possible. Practicing yoga rights my mind, body and soul and opens me to the joy of each day. A new daily practice I’ve added lately is engaging with social media.

I am delighted to find out how much I actually like Twitter! Before opening my own account, I was only on Twitter as a business tool for the restaurant. It’s great to be connected to the world in 140 characters or less: CNN, NY Times, Austin Chronicle, Culture Map, Huffington Post and the City of Austin, with the option to click the bit map for the full story beyond the headline. A time saver and a time eater. The daily practice of being on Twitter means I am connected to current, cultural and local happenings minute by minute.

When I told a close friend of mine that I had started a blog, he said I’ve never read a blog. My response, me neither ‘til my own. This has changed lately as I submerge myself into a culture of blogs, websites, self-promoting and self-publishing trying to visualize my version of cyber Cari.

Ultimately to be successful at any of it, you need people to read what you write. My job at this point is to keep you reading.  Without you, this is just me pontificating. You reading it makes it an actual blog on the interweb.

In the modified words of my girl, Melanie Freeman at blackswanyogatv.com, at the end of every Practice. I thank you for reading! Hope it brings a little light and love to your day.

Namaste.

After the initial first steps, I realize the path I have chosen is not just a mountain, but an entire range of mountains. It extends endlessly into the realm of possibilities. In my mind’s eye I open to my perfect path. My feet know the way. I can see myself standing on peak after peak as I let my dreams manifest in the realm of my imagination and become reality.

I’ve climbed mountains before. Many mountains. My favorites were during the 5 winters I spent in New Mexico. We often got some of our best snowfalls before and after the ski lifts were operating. No Matter. We’d gear-up, strapping our skis onto our hiking packs and go for it. Ski Santa Fe’s base elevation is 10,350 feet with the summit at 12,035 feet. Ski Santa Fe Map

This is one of the few times I am ever jealous of snow borders. Their boots are soft making them easy to hike in, as opposed to the oppressively stiff ski boots that I wore. Their boards are a singular component and easily slung over their backs. This is also the only time skis are awkward to me, when they’re strapped on either side of my body, climbing straight up a mountain.

Head down, toe in. Climb. climb.

Feeling the burn, I chant this repeating mantra in my head and focus on the peak.

Somewhere between the green-quad chair run, Broadway, and the far steeper blue run leading to the top of the triple-chair’s peak, we stop for a break. We don’t talk about how hard the climb is. We talk about how gorgeous the day is. Or how tasty Eric’s homemade cookies are.

We’re all climbing that same mountain. We all know it’s tough. But we also know that even though it’s only one ride down, every step we take is worth it. Even when the snow is crusty or thin, it’s still worth it—every time.

Of course the preference for all of us is always fresh powder. My last visit to Taos Ski Valley was a solo one of discovery and exploration. After skiing 2 of 4 days for free in Santa Fe, I scored another 2 free tickets for the end of my trip in Taos. At lunchtime, that sun-soaked February afternoon, I headed to the Hotel St. Bernard patio to thank one of my friend-of-a-friend-lift ticket benefactors whom I’d never met.

“No problem,” he graciously says flipping the burgers on the deck grill.

“You hiked the Ridge yet?”

Nope. I was alone. Usually with a group or at least a ski buddy, on this day it was just me. Tackling the double-diamond Ridge when considering even the easiest of runs made my knees shake a bit. Especially alone.

“You’ve got to do it man! I went yesterday and the snow’s fucking awesome.” He goes back to his grill station.

I knew he was right. I’d skied a full morning, was plenty warmed up and had some juice left in my legs. I finished my

burger, took two chair lift rides, popped my skis off, flung them over my shoulders and started the snow-packed climb. I hiked past the Highline runs of the famed steepness of Oster and Staufeenberg and forged on to Juarez, the easiest of all the Ridge runs just at the top. TrailMap_HighlineRidge

I’d been eyeing it’s broad, open face of soft, fresh powder from the cat walk below all day. As I climbed a far shorter distance than when the lifts were closed in Santa Fe, I thought of Taos Ski Valley founder, Ernie Blake.

“Earn your turns,” was his motto. It meant you had to hike to get to the good stuff.

I locked my skis into place, tightened my boots and knees knocking peered over the 42 degree pitch of the wind-whipped sharp cusp and jumped into my first turn with shaky confidence. Linked a second…and was on my way.

Big Fat Turns. I didn’t care that my line wasn’t tight. I was free! For a brief and brilliant moment in time it was just me and the mountain.

That’s why I climb mountains, I thought as I came breathlessly invigorated to a stop at the bottom of the run and looked back up. Hell yeah! That’s living right.

I have often used the “head-down-toe-in….you will get to the top of your mountain” speech to encourage people in my life get through whatever huge endeavor they may be facing at that moment.

Unless you’ve actually climbed a mountain, it’s only a good metaphor.

Once you’ve climbed that mountain, though, taken that peace-filled, wind-at-your-back-and-stinging-your-face-at-the-same-time, perfect run down the mountain on a Bluebird Day, well, that’s when you know that all the mountains and all the peaks are worth the effort. They are always worth all the preparation, tenacity and dedication.

Standing here, perfectly rooted in my lovely home a mile from the Greenbelt hills and hiking trails in otherwise-flat Austin, I am on top of my first peak. I’ve made it to the quad chair. One green run and 900-feet of vertical behind me, I see the top of the next mountain. And the one after that.

I open myself to all the possibilities in the great abundance before me. There will be many mountains I know I can climb in front of me. I can go it alone. But I also know that having the support of my friends and family along the way makes it easier to enjoy the scenery and indulge in the cookies.

Head down, toe in. Climb. Climb.

That first step’s a doozy. Especially when you don’t see it coming. They were like cartoon characters with AK47’s coming through the front door of the restaurant that morning. As soon as I saw the little blond “kick-it” dog and the intensely aggressive pit bull, I knew I was going down.

Her rifle nearly tipped over her tiny Pomeranian frame, but the gun gave her what her chirpy, high pitched bark never did — Power. Her fluffy smile was 2 feet ahead of her as she approached the table.

“Cari, can we talk to you please,” the pit said licking his jowls. He hunkered into every muscle that supported his enormous frame. He didn’t really need a gun and rarely carried one, but this was one of those special moments where you dress for the occasion.

“Yep.” I jump up from my morning office perch at the hightop table on the other side of the dish room and close my laptop.

“Time is on my Side” by the Rolling Stones is playing on the Juke box as we descended the stairs to the Underground Wine Lounge.

It was fast and painless. That’s how pits are. It’s their nature.

I smiled and took it professionally. Left with my head held high and my mascara intact. My phone had been ringing and dinging since the email went out with the announcement an hour ago.

I texted my friends, talked to one of my closest managers who said, “I’ll cry for you Cari!” through her sobs. And then texted the husband and wife owners of the company and thanked them for the opportunity. When the owner called me that afternoon, as per my request for “clarity to help me grow and process”, I was 2 glasses of Pink Bubbles into my freedom.

He was real and so was I. I was the 11th person (I think, I may have lost count) laid off since January when it started with the president. I wasn’t onboard with how the company was growing. Absolutely not. Lots of decisions and discussions that went against the grain of who I am at the core as both a human and a manager.

I felt a great sense of relief. I didn’t have to reconcile the 3 P&L’s after my 10-hour floor shift and drive to Houston in the morning for a meeting anymore. Every time I see the Staples commercials from here on out, I am going to pay it gratitude because sometimes, every now and again, there really is an Easy Button.  

“I’m really great!” I emphatically professed to the owner at the beginning of the call.

And I truly was. I had known for a minute somewhere deep down that I wasn’t happy in my current position. It took being pushed off the cliff to make me realize all the possibilities in front of me and that I didn’t have to climb back up that same path. I opened my metaphorical wings and turned the moment into a swan dive.

In the free fall that ensued I felt a myriad of emotions. Fear. Regret. Humility. Embarrassment. Anger. Hope. Faith. Forward thinking. Opening myself to opportunities outside the box. Fear. Confidence. And more Fear.

Eventually I introduced myself to Fear and made peace with it. We now openly acknowledge each other’s presence and get on with our days. Usually Fear gets bored and wonders off, occasionally tagging out when his good friend Anxiety shows up. These are manageable issues within myself. I am the ring-leader; snapping my whip, directing Fear to leave and Anxiety to simmer and settle into something more productive.

I have especially realized lately how much the people in my life mean to me. The restaurant life of my past kept me from them in many ways. Lots of late nights and long days that left me on the crispy side of fried. I rarely could make it to the Friday or Saturday functions with friends and family. Only the really important events like weddings and funerals, and then I insisted.

I read an article this week citing that 40% of Americans don’t take all of their vacation days.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/arianna-huffington/paid-vacation-days_b_5693225.html

That used to be me. I got vacations in small pieces, or in between jobs. If I took a long 4-day weekend off as a GM, I generally had to work 11 or 12 days in a row on either side of it just to get the time. I always left unused vacation days behind when I changed restaurants.

The truths of being a freelance writer break down pretty simply. If I find work and complete the work, I make money. That means being published, which requires a discipline. Freedom needs to be balanced with personal accountability, daily dedication to writing and growing a solid business and diversified platform.

I am working on being the best boss I can. Holding myself to goals and deadlines and adjusting them when necessary with gentle understanding. I am also working at being a great employee. Using my work time wisely and for work. Not for trolling Facebook or re-organizing the tupperware cabinet. Showing up on time instead of snoozing.

If it is to be it is up to me.