Three Cheers for Dara Torres!

What about 41-year-old swimmer Dara Torres beating women half her age and qualifying for her fifth Olympic Games? Dara is the mother of a two-year-old girl. She's undergone several surgeries in the past year; a rotator cuff surgery in November and several surgeries on her knee.  The last one was only five weeks ago. Yet, there she was this past weekend, not only winning the qualifying 50 and 100 meter freestyle finals, but beating her own times in the 100 freestyle from her Olympic swims in 1984 and 2000. She holds the world record for the 100 backstroke, too. Talk about an inspiration.

(The photo included here is from USA Today, taken two years ago.  That's Dara with her daughter, Tessa.)

"A Swimmer of a Certain Age" appeared in the New York Times Magazine on June 29th, before she won her qualifying races this past weekend.

Of course, there are cynics who believe that she has to be doping in order to win like that, at her age. Undoubtedly, those claims will surface throughout the media in the months to come.  A feature in the Austin-American Statesman appeared on Monday, addressing these claims and her responses.  The article is entitled, "41-year-old Olympic swimmer: Too good to be true?"  It mentions that Dana categorically denies doping, continually offering to be tested anywhere, at anytime, for anything, in order to prove her point.  An excerpt:

"As part of the new USADA program, Project Believe, she's one of about a dozen athletes who gets blood and urine taken at any time.  Sometimes she's asked to go to the nearest lab.  'It's a pain,' she said.  'But I asked for this and I want to prove that I'm clean, so to me it's worth it."

We'll keep watching Dara in Beijing and wish her fabulous success!

DTBF!
Johanna

May 31: DTBF at Shea Stadium

On Saturday, May 31, I’ll be heading a group outing to a Mets/Dodgers game at Shea Stadium in New York. I will be wearing my other hat (literally) as the director of Soy Happy, which many of you already know about. Rather than going into a description about Soy Happy, I’ll defer to the website and let you check it out, if you’re interested.

Anyway. It’s through Soy Happy that I came to know Patti. (That picture up there is of me with Patti at an A's game a few years ago.) I was speaking at a conference back in 2001 and she introduced herself afterward, expressing her desire to help and to take action in her own region (D.C./Baltimore area.) She became my Soy Happy Manager for the Orioles and then for the Nationals, as well. When I returned for an Orioles game outing a year later, she played driver and guide to me. We’ve been solid friends ever since.

So. Back to the outing. On May 31, Patti will be joining us at Shea Stadium. We’re there simply to enjoy an afternoon at a ballpark, partake in veggie dogs, chat with a group of great folks, and simply be....soy happy! Dan Piraro, creator of the comic strip, Bizarro, will be there, too, along with his amazing wife, Ashley. As I wrote on the Soy Happy site, he’ll join a group that includes a noted residential architect, a fabulous flamenco dancer (that would be Patti!), a custom vegan glove maker (recently voted in by the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum), an MTV video award winner, a former 3-time Little League All Star, an attorney who pro bonos for animal cases... and many others!

It’s as much about Daring To Be Fabulous as it is about being Soy Happy, so I invite you to join us! Contact me at johanna@soyhappy.org if you’d like to get tickets. You can also read more about the Shea outing by clicking on that link.

DTBF!
Johanna

Female Afghan Sprinter in a race against hate

Yesterday, the San Francisco Chronicle featured a story about Mehboba Andyar, a female Afghan sprinter who, despite all cultural and personal threats to her pursuit of the Olympic dream, has continued to train for, and will now compete in, the Beijing Olympics. Andyar truly dares to be fabulous. Her courage and her conviction are an example for all.

The article is pasted, below. Please share your comments with us! Also, click on the link to the Chronicle and offer your comments there, too.

Female Afghan sprinter in a race against hate
Nick Meo, Chronicle Foreign Service
Friday, April 4, 2008

(04-04) 04:00 PDT Kabul, Afghanistan --

Many athletes at the Olympic Games this summer will undoubtedly have overcome numerous obstacles to represent their country in Beijing. But only one has been forced to endure a hate campaign.

Sprinter Mehboba Andyar has received threatening midnight phone calls, been jeered at by hostile neighbors and harassed by police. The anger is directed at the 19-year-old runner for being Afghanistan's sole female Olympic athlete. In a conservative Muslim society where few women have roles outside the home, many Afghan men believe females should not compete in sports.

"There have been so many phone calls from people saying I shouldn't be an athlete. There are often strange men hanging outside my home," she said. "Sometimes stones are thrown at the windows at night, and we have had threatening letters. I don't worry about these threats, but if my family didn't want me to go (to Beijing), I wouldn't."

Neighbors scream abuse and threaten her with physical harm each time she leaves her small mud-brick home in a Kabul slum to run. Last month, police officers arrested her father after a neighbor complained that Andyar had been entertaining strange men. Even though she was merely giving an interview to a French journalist and his translator, she says the police hauled the three men to the station. They were soon released after the precinct police chief intervened and apologized, she says.

Since the announcement early this year that she would represent Afghanistan in the 800-meter and 1,500-meter races, the determined Andyar refuses to be intimidated.

"I knew that I would have to be strong to be a runner in Afghanistan," she said. "At least my family and fellow athletes support me and want me to run for my country."

To be sure, she does have some male supporters, especially among the young and educated.

"If a woman likes sports, she should do it," said Naimullah, a 24-year-old university student who goes by just one name. "Afghanistan is changing. In a few years, people won't think this is anything unusual."

When Andyar arrives in Beijing to compete against the world's top runners who have honed their skills at some of the world's best facilities, she knows she has little chance of winning a gold, silver or bronze medal.

"We don't expect her to win," said Habibullah Niazi, a member of Afghanistan's Olympic committee. "But participating in the Olympic Games and running as an Afghan woman athlete is an achievement. All sports people support her. Unfortunately, many of the people do not."

Her interest in running began under the fundamentalist Taliban government in 1998, when she began jogging around the family's enclosed yard in Kabul to avoid the patrols of the Taliban's religious police. Aside from banning television, movies, music and kite flying, the Taliban prevented girls from going to school or work and participating in sports.

When the family fled to Pakistan, her father couldn't afford to join an athletic club where she could train properly. Instead, she ran at a park in Islamabad.

Today, Andyar trains on a cracked concrete track in the same national stadium the Taliban used for public executions. The track, bordered by a chain-link fence topped with razor wire, circles a patch of dried yellow grass where boys play soccer. She dons a track suit and head scarf and plans to do the same in Beijing.

"I am an Afghan, so I have to dress modestly," she said. "It is my culture."

Her training regimen is often interrupted by dust storms that sweep through the city. And to avoid the neighbors' wrath, she runs along potholed streets near her home at night while they are watching popular soap operas, maneuvering around trash piles and open drains.

Later this month, the Afghan and International Olympic committees plan to send Andyar and the only other member of Afghanistan's Olympic squad - a 20-year-old male sprinter named Massoud Azizi - to Malaysia to train at adequate facilities. There, coach Shahpoor Amiri hopes Andyar will be able to focus on running.

"She is an inspiration," Amiri said. "For us, it is enough that an Afghan girl is going to the Beijing games."

http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2008/04/04/MN5DVOUQ2.DTL

This article appeared on page A - 15 of the San Francisco Chronicle

Observing Our Apologies

I read a Q&A column with Natalie Portman in this week’s Time Magazine. One reader asked her this question:

“What have you learned about yourself by portraying powerful women?”

To which she replied,

“It has encouraged me to say things authoritatively. Often women preface what they say with ‘I know this might sound stupid’ or ‘I don’t mean to be aggressive, but…’ I tend to do that, so it is great to have the opportunity to play a leader.”

I thought about how true that was and then continued with reading the magazine. Well, in the few days since I read that column, I have become startlingly aware of my own tendency to apologize. Apologize when unnecessary, I hasten to clarify. It has happened enough times for me to self-impose an internal alarm whenever that word comes out of my mouth, or as in most cases, when it came out in the text of an e-mail. I’m training myself to sound that alarm and simply ask myself, “is it truly warranted? Or am I making less of myself because I’m nervous about the response?”

Apologizing is often a way of playing ourselves down and letting the listener, or the reader, know that we put their opinions above ours. In essence, it relays that we are either slightly embarrassed or ashamed to be putting that person on the receiving side of our question or request. Unfortunately, Ms. Portman is correct in stating that this is something many women do. We don’t dare give ourselves the right to just state something, or simply ask.

When I am asking for something and I sense that it may ruffle the other person’s feathers, I have a tendency to apologize. Even if I think it’s their job and my right and there really is nothing wrong with asking.

I heard my internal alarm when I was prone to another apology yesterday, and it occurred to me that the trigger comes from a deeper place. Perhaps it’s a place of connection; a place of compassion. That’s assuming the best, of course. We just don’t like to make others feel uncomfortable or unhappy. Right? Anyone who’s had any bit of self-therapy will admit that’s nonsense, though. Shouldn’t we assume for them the same privilege we grant ourselves? That is, allow them to be accountable for their own response, to deal with things their own way, and to let them handle their own issues without our automatic need to make it all OKAY?

Diplomacy is a delicate art form. Somewhere between directly or aggressively stating something on the one hand, and prefacing the request with an apology (or three or four) on the other…well, therein lies the charm. After all, tact and consideration should never be under-rated.

We each know our internal buttons. When we are acting consciously, I believe that each one of us has an intuitive sense of when we’re apologizing simply to appease a discomfort that we ourselves feel in the process of asking or suggesting something; not necessarily because we are truly SORRY to ask. (Otherwise, why ask?) Generally speaking, we don’t want others to dislike us or to say bad things about us later. We want to be liked at all costs. We mean well, after all. So we apologize as our way of showing that.

Auto-pilot apologizing holds us back in more ways than I think any of us realize. If we continue to introduce our requests with an apology, we’ll continue to back down and give someone else the go ahead, simply because their personalities seem stronger or more forceful, or more notably, because we’re concerned with making sure we’re liked at all costs, even if what we’re asking for is a completely professional or logical request and in no way inappropriate.

I encourage all of you who have this tendency to start observing yourselves more consciously. Ask yourselves if the apology is truly warranted, or whether it’s that auto-pilot trigger. I believe that the more you practice, the taller you’ll stand.

DTBF!
Johanna

Walking up a trail

Walking up a trail, the crisp cold air on my cheeks, watching each rock as I navigate my way, step by step, and around the bend, I notice that I am smiling. A broad, happy, easy, natural smile that matches the beating of my heart and tells me I am one again. Deep breath in, hop onto a rock, step over some boulders, and out again. Birds singing. A breeze. THIS, I remember, is where I am happiest. Moving through Nature. Joining it. Beholding it. Immersing myself in such a way that I not only commune, I honor.

For some people, it is a Church where they find solace and spiritual connectedness, a path and an answer to the whys and hows that inhabit their thoughts. For me, it is a walk upon soil and granite, distant from the tether of humanity. There, I find bliss in the simplicity of my breath and the cadence of my stride. My thoughts inevitably whirr in the first mile, my ego baiting for resolutions on things of the past and future. On and on it goes, in circles and around again, thinking of choices I’ve made, pondering their merit and possible changes in plan. I think of people I know, how I am and how they are, and what that all means, and what do I do with it. After a while, as my heart beat starts to lure my thoughts toward my body, I start to notice my surroundings more. The colors. The temperature. The topography. And then, at some point, I realize, it’s been many miles and I forgot all about myself. I forgot that I had a self-identity. I was simply in the moment, breath in, breath out, engaged with my surroundings, taking one step at a time.

Today, I was in the Sunol Wilderness. I craved hot weather and sun, after a week of heavy bay area fog. I longed to feel the reality of summer. Under the hot sun, I walked along trails that meandered up and around the many rolling hills of mustard colored grass. Cows crossed my path, watching me ever so carefully to ensure that I was no threat. I whispered to them that I was not. I thought of Franz Kafka’s quote, “Now I can look at you in peace. I do not eat you any more.” Nevertheless, a calf was nearby and I knew the sentiment wouldn’t hold much value to a defensive mama. I veered to the left when I saw the little one, black and white, and averted my gaze from his mother’s intent glare. All is well here, I relayed to her in thought. I am your friend. I will do you no harm.

Hiking in wilderness is my meditation. My re-connection. My way of disengaging from the I, and all of my ego’s desires to make things work, make things fit, make things right with society. Questions of how do I fit in dissipate as a true outer connection is borne.

I came upon no other people on my hike today. Just me, the vast sky above, the sloping hills all around me, and the cows.

Seven miles and I was centered again.

DTBF!
Johanna

Beautiful book: Women Empowered

I just read about a book entitled, "Women Empowered." It is a compilation of gorgeous sepiat-toned photography by Phil Borges along with inspiring essays about women who challenged cultural barriers in third world countries, and succeeded. Former U.S. Secretary of State Madeline K. Albright provides the foreword to this book.

BTW. Phil Borges is a man who totally Dared To Be Fabulous. He was once an orthodontist in San Francisco who, after practicing dentistry for 18 years, decided to sell his practice and pursue a career in photography. Isn't that great? Look at what he did with that passion and talent. (The picture we've attached is one of the women he features. Her name is Transito.)

This is what he shares about this book on his website:
"In 2004 I partnered with the organization CARE to bring attention to the necessity of empowering women in the global campaign to alleviate poverty. I traveled to Africa, Asia and South America to gather the stories of extraordinary women in remote parts of the world who have empowered themselves and their communities. Here are a few of these women, remote and mostly unknown, on the vanguard of a global shift toward gender equality."

Here is a link to his page so you can see more of the photographs and read about these amazing women:
http://www.philborges.com/we/women-empowered.html

DTBF!
Johanna

No Secrets in New Delhi

I came upon my cd of Carly Simon’s "No Secrets." Talk about a soundtrack from your past. This one is on the top three. For me, it’s New Delhi, India. 1973. I’m nine years old. We play this album so often, it’s like the McCloy family album of 1973. It brings me back to early evenings in the living room, parents sipping cocktails. Then, to my room. Playing our old piano along with one of the songs, “Embrace Me.” Playing the song over and over and over, trying to learn how to play the piano along in tune, singing along with the words, “then one night daddy died, and went to Heaven and God came down to Earth and slipped away.” How I would imagine what that would be like. My daddy dying. The emotions. The loss. Little did I know my dad would die when I was still relatively young; 21 years old.

Every song with its own world of meaning. The context of the time when it was imprinted. The correlation of vocal tone and lyrics to the mood they created. Carly was with us there. Our little bubble of life at 12 Friends Colony West.

My brother named his daughter Carly. My family fondly thinks it has to do with the influence that Ms. Simon had on our lives. The love she brought. The bond she created. It sounds corny, but we all have music that sticks with us like that. And we may not always remember the artist or the song, but when we hear it, boy, do those floodgates of sense memory open up and remind us!

We might have intellectual disconnects in the present and pooh-pooh an artist that once brought us joy, because they are no longer hip or heard or popular or understood. But ya can’t take that memory away and the happiness that it brought you. The impact it has at a pivotal time in your life will never go away. KC and the Sunshine Band's "That's the way I Like it" lives on. For me, that’s Ithaca, New York, 1975; my one year of living in the U.S between birth and college. Michael Jackson's "Off the Wall"? That's Tokyo. 1979. Dancing in the crowded discos of Roppongi on Saturday night, sipping silly drinks like blue Hawaiians or violet fizzes. Talking Heads' "Burning Down the House"? Durham, North Carolina, 1983. Definitely the soundtrack of the house I lived in off of Duke's east campus with my sister and several friends. People joked that this album was on every single time they came over, and I think they were probably right. And one more, while I'm on a roll here. Fine Young Cannibals' "The Raw and the Cooked." That takes me to Bequia, West Indies, July, 1989. I was in this oasis of a place with 20 other actors, studying acting with Sandy Meisner. This just happened to be the album that was often played on the boombox when we took breaks or danced on Saturday nights. I will always go back to Bequia when I hear that album, and undoubtedly, so will everyone else that was there with me that month.

My friend Ilse is a musician who describes her need for music as a drug. I think music is a drug. Just because you don’t drink or smoke it, doesn’t mean it isn’t mood altering to a huge degree. It influences our mood. We use it to bring us up, or to bring us down. We use it to party. We use it to ponder. We use it to exercise. We use it to escape. When you turn on your ipod, how do you choose what song you will listen to? The questions is; how do you want to feel? And my friend is one of those music-driven people who slips away in consciousness when music is playing. You know how that goes. Trying to maintain a conversation flow of some normalcy becomes an arduous task with people who get lost in music. They’re gonners. You just have to sit out the tune and hope for the best, Maybe it’s just this one song. My brother’s the same way. They’re in another world and you have to fight to get their attention. But we all do it. I did it tonight when Henri was trying to talk to me. I got lost in New Delhi with No Secrets. The past came back, alive and well. New Delhi in Berkeley. 1973 in 2007. Music can do that.

DTBF!
Johanna

Marketing for women: princesses or athletes?

On July 2, the San Francisco Chronicle offered a commentary entitled, "Sometimes a backpack engenders exasperation. When marketers design products for fairy princesses, athletic women are the ones who have to pay the price," by Catherine Price. Her comment is basically this: Maybe women who climb mountains don't want to be 'girly'. Maybe there are women who are trekking in the wilderness or going on mountain bike rides who prefer to buy items that speak to their athleticism instead of to stereotypes of their sex. Of course, many women like the idea of outdoor gear that highlights their feminine side. And it sells.

On a tangent, I will confess that sometimes, when I am looking at children's gear or apparel at outdoor clothing and gear stores such as REI, I kinda wish they'd make those in an adult size. What's wrong with silly themes on adult apparel? What's wrong with celebrating loony toons when you're over...30? Galloshes with psychedelic sunflowers? I'd love a pair!

That's the spirit of DTBF! Celebrating your own sense of style, no matter if it's what 'the mainstream' might choose.

So, I link to the above referenced article here... and invite you to share your own thoughts on the subject: http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2006/07/02/INGJNJMQ6Q1.DTL

DTBF!
Johanna

"Chick lit grows up"

"10 years after 'Bridget Jones', chick lit grows up, gets serious and stops wearing pink jump." This is the title of a feature article by Heidi Benson that was printed in the San Francisco Chronicle's Book Review. In the article, Benson addresses the rising interest in women's anthologies.

Excerpt:
"Women are reading more of these books -- both anthologies and self-help," says Louisa Ermelino of Publisher's Weekly. "We want to see ourselves reflected."

Our thoughts, indeed!

Read the article at http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/c/a/2006/05/09/DDG8MIMKB51.DTL

DTBF!
Johanna

Feature Story in May's Bay Area BusinessWoman

Patti and I are very proud that Dare To Be Fabulous is featured in the May 2006 issue of Bay Area BusinessWoman, a publication available throughout the San Francisco bay area (and online). The tag line: "Connecting women in commerce, community and the arts".

You can link to the featured story here: http://babwnews.com/article.php?id=583&action=

This publication came to my attention when I first moved to the bay area four years ago. The positive spirit of this paper, celebrating women and offering a way for all of us to connect, is truly in the spirit of Dare To Be Fabulous. To have DTBF featured in the May issue is heart-warming.

Peruse their website and share your feedback! They'd like that. :)

DTBF!

Johanna

Honoring Betty Friedan and Coretta Scott King

We honor two fabulous women who died this week: Betty Friedan and Coretta Scott King. Women who were part of the revolutionary movements of the 1960s and continued throughout their lives to generate change and awaken consciousness in people everywhere. Women who defied the societal standards of their time and proposed the radical notion that men and women, and all races, were created equal.

Betty Friedan

Betty Friedan became world famous for her book "The Feminine Mystique," a book she wrote while living as a suburban housewife in New York. She had graduated from Smith College in 1942 and later studied with the renowned psychologist, Erik Erikson at U.C. Berkeley. When she was offered a second prestigious fellowship in the graduate school of Psychology, her husband pressured her to turn it down. It was then that she wrote "The Feminine Mystique" (published in 1963). This book was founded on the notion that men and women were created equal and analyzed how women had been affected in the years following World War II by their expected societal roles and their limited means to fulfill career aspirations. In later editions, the issue of choice was also integrated into the book. In 1966, Ms. Friedan helped found the National Organization of Women. And then, in 1971, with Gloria Steinem and Bella Abzug, she founded the Women's Political Caucus. Ms. Friedan wrote several other books, but it was "The Feminine Mystique" that continued to provoke questions and to inspire women, and men, all over the world, to transform themselves and the societies they lived in. She died on Saturday, her 85th birthday, of congestive heart failure.

Read a Summary and Essays on "The Feminine Mystique"

Read about all of Betty Friedan's books


Coretta Scott King

Coretta Scott King died Monday at the age of 78. She was in Mexico at an alternative medicine clinic, where she was being treated for advanced ovarian cancer. Mrs. King is the first woman and the first black person to lie in honor at the Georgia State Capitol, a place long regarded as the hotbed of segregation, and the location in which her husband, Martin Luther King, Jr., first began his quest to raise the spirit of his fellow citizens to empower themselves and to claim their civil rights by no longer accepting the intense racism and prejudice that prevailed in the world around them. He won the Nobel Peace Prize and created a wave of change that Mrs. King continued to undulate in her own quiet and noble manner after Martin Luther King Jr's assassination in 1968.

From her biography on the King Center's website, here is the brief biography of Coretta Scott King:

"Coretta Scott King is one of the most influential women leaders in our world today. Prepared by her family, education, and personality for a life committed to social justice and peace, she entered the world stage in 1955 as wife of the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and as a leading participant in the American Civil Rights Movement. Her remarkable partnership with Dr. King resulted not only in four talented children, but in a life devoted to the highest values of human dignity in service to social change. Mrs. King has traveled throughout our nation and world speaking out on behalf of racial and economic justice, women's and children's rights, gay and lesbian dignity, religious freedom, the needs of the poor and homeless, full-employment, health care, educational opportunities, nuclear disarmament and ecological sanity. In her distinguished and productive career, she has lent her support to democracy movements world-wide and served as a consultant to many world leaders, including Corazon Aquino, Kenneth Kaunda, and Nelson Mandela."

For more information: http://www.thekingcenter.org/

Read or listen to NPR's report about Coretta Scott King


Coretta Scott King and Betty Friedan, two women from different walks of life, made a difference in the world by being true to themselves and voicing their beliefs in freedom and equality. May they continue to inspire us all.

DTBF!

Johanna

Women and Families conference

I was reading Vicki Haddock’s October 30 piece in the San Francisco Chronicle. It was about Maria Shriver’s second annual Women and Families conference at the Long Beach Convention Center. She hosts this conference as First Lady of California and some 10,000 women attended this year. They listened to speakers including Shriver, Dr. Laura, Jane Fonda, retiring Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor, and many more, including a selection of male speakers.

What struck me, when reading about this conference and the varied perspectives represented and offered there, was how, at the end of the day, there was only one prevailing message that attendees could come away with, and that is this: No one has the answers for you.

Some women addressed the importance of inner beauty and expressed chagrin at the focus on external appearances in our society; meanwhile, corporate sponsors offered external beauty tips and sample cosmetic products at various tables around the conference. Pastor Rick Warren talked about how God is more interested in character over comfort and encouraged women to focus more on the “we” instead of the “I”; shortly thereafter, Suze Orman enthusiastically told participants that they could indeed have everything they wanted if they just set their intention on realizing those dreams.

Maria Shriver offered a little of her own experience as First Lady of California and as a life-long Democrat, married to a Republican Governor:
"I sat myself down and said 'OK, girl ... focus. Breathe. Channel your mother.' ... I had to look in the mirror and say, 'snap out of it, girlfriend ... You know, girlfriend, the best way to honor your family's legacy is to just keep doing the work and don't listen to what people are saying.' "

And so it goes. The point is that everyone comes from a different experience and a different life lesson, based on their individual circumstances. What might be great advice and direction for one woman, or man, for that matter, may actually prove to be inappropriate or damaging for another. The Middle Road seems to me to be the most appropriate direction to take. Listening to your intuition while taking in the wise and loving example of others. Choosing a path that is kind and compassionate, and not shying away from being true to your own self expression in the process.

That’s what Dare To Be Fabulous is all about. Finding your own path.

What that looks like, is your call.

DTBF!
Johanna

Truckin'

I love how we get thrown these curve balls in life and we end up doing things or meeting people or going to places that we’d never have anticipated. I see my life that way. A whole bunch of curves, and not too many straight lines. From the way I grew up, moving from one side of the world to another, repeatedly; to my varied careers in education, entertainment, counseling, activism, and even the food business.

One of those curve balls was how I got into trucking. I was a sophomore at Duke University at the time. My boyfriend, who was a few years older, had just graduated and wasn’t yet sure of what he wanted to pursue as a career. He’d been working during the summers for a local moving company, so he decided to continue full-time while he pondered his future. The company was created by a couple of Deadheads, Doug and Toni. Besides them, the company was made up of Mark, his brothers, and a few friends, so it was small and had the feel of a large family. The name of the company was Truckin’ Movers and the logo on the trucks was of the famous Grateful Dead boot on the Truckin’ album cover. In the office, incense smoke wafted in the air and shoes were stashed at the front door. Tapes of the Dead played all day.

So there I was making my way from Philosophy to Intermediate Japanese to Socialist Societies and Geology classes, while my beau mastered the art of loading and driving an 18-wheeler. He got his license first and then trained others as more trucks were added to the fleet. When he drove long distances over holidays, breaks or weekends, he’d take me along, picking me up at the house where I lived, off campus. Everyone knew he was coming, blocks before he arrived, because you could hear the sounds of breaks hissing and gears changing as he made his way through the residential streets. Doug and Toni didn’t know that I joined him, so we kept that secret.

My CB “handle” was Tokyo Rose. When we went to truck stops, we used North Carolina accents to blend in and converse with the other truckers. When we pulled into weigh stations along the freeways, we’d anticipate the universal request that would come from the officials waiting for us. “Drivahs lie-ense, restration, loag buk!” When he first started driving, he drove a smaller truck without the sleeper cabin. When he graduated to those 18-wheelers, it was like we were freeway royalty, bouncing around above everyone else in big comfortable easy chairs. When we were together, we stayed in motels, but when he was alone, he’d sleep in the sleeper cab at the truck stops, occasionally awoken by truck stop prostitutes knocking on the door to see if he might need anything.

We went to Alabama and were hit by a horrible snowstorm. I usually helped him by tracking the inventory lists of what was being moved, but that day, I helped him load the truck as well. He was solo and the weather made the work even more grueling. The shipper couldn’t have been nicer and didn’t balk about the trucker’s girlfriend helping him load. After we finished loading, we drove to a motel, took long hot baths, and buried ourselves under the blankets, our bodies aching from head to toe. Another time, we went to San Francisco where Glen, his “humper” (that’s the job title used for the person who assists the main driver/loader in the moving business), literally humped the client in her bedroom as we inventoried and unloaded her furniture on the floor below. She took us all out for pizza afterward. She had a wide smile on her face the rest of that night.

Mark and I really enjoyed our experiences on the road and loved the adventure and independence that it provided. We loved to interact with people and to see new parts of the country. We liked it so much, that we seriously pondered buying a truck and taking a year to live and work as independent owner/operators after I graduated from college. But that didn’t come to pass. Mark took his law school entrance exam that year and passed, so he stopped working for Truckin’ Movers and we moved to California where he attended law school.

I have photos from our days with Truckin’ Movers and I always enjoy looking at them. It was a total blast.

DTBF!
Johanna

Road Trip

My love and I just went on a road trip through Nevada to Colorado and Utah. We drove on 50, the Loneliest Highway, and stayed in ma and pa motels along the way. When we got to Colorado, we hiked and explored, going from Denver to the Rockies to the Collegiate Peaks. Then, it was on to Utah’s Arches and Canyonlands. We ate greasy food from fast food drive-throughs and stopped at supermarkets to get fresh fruit and vegetables and some micro-brewed beers for the evenings. We had no music with us. It was just us and the wind and AM radio. Occasionally, we'd tune into an NPR station or a 70s rock station, but mostly it was talk radio or country music. My love sang songs and the longer he drove, the sillier he got.

It took me three days to fully decompress. For the first two days my brain was always going back to thinking about what I forgot to do at work or what I should do when getting back. Finally, after we got to the Rockies, I was back in the moment again, relaxed, connected, happy. For the next few days, I soaked in the surroundings and took in the adventure like a drug. It was peaceful yet invigorating to be in such beautiful natural settings, to hike up long trails with no one else in sight and view the expanse of mountain vistas or canyons, as far as the eye could see. No cars. No machines. No voices. No signs of civilization. Just our breath and our songs and our quiet conversations.

For me, this is when I am most "myself." When I no longer think about whether I'm "enough." When I no longer question my choices based on whether or not they may or may not be popular or accepted or even understood. And it occurs to me that this has always been the case for me, growing up the way I did.

For me, traveling is the adventure. Finding a destination is temporary. The movement is the thing. My ego fades. My spiritual being takes over. I don't think so much from the outside. I just am. And in that space, all is well. All is fabulous. For me, this is DTBF. To simply be. To be at peace with myself and to feel connected to the pulse of life that is all around. I feel so vibrant and happy.

Sometimes, when I’m in the mode of the routines of daily living and working, I feel like a baseball player fielding balls. I’m on alert and at the ready for a line drive or a fly ball, a stolen base or an error. The phone is ringing incessantly and hundreds of Emails wait for a reply. Everyone wants answers and wants them now. I feel laden with expectations. The to-do list grows exponentially. It can be such a striking contrast to the peace I experience in Nature.

Ah, but Nature is right outside my front door. And as long as I can walk on an isolated trail, stand on the beach and listen to the ocean, or hear birds singing their beautiful songs, I am able to keep coming back to that place of peace and connection and vibrancy. And this is what keeps me ticking. This is what fuels me. This is what makes me feel absolutely fabulous.

DTBF!
Johanna