Shall I Spell it Out for You?

L - Look the part
I - Invent your future
V - Validate others
I - Identify your inner matriarch
N - Never quit (just change your mind)
G - Go until you get there (then keep going)

F- Find you passion
E - Evolve
A - Act the part
R - Roll with it
L - Live every day
E - Enlist your friends
S - Smile
S - Seek Adventure
L - Lose the clutter
Y - Yes, you can!

There's Empathy, Then There's Thievery

Our school librarian received an urgent phone call right around lunch time on a Thursday. "Your house is on fire," the voice on the other end exclaimed. With that, she slammed down the receiver, grabbed her purse, ran to the office to announce her immediate departure, and flew down the hall out the doors to the parking lot.


I work in an elementary school and by nature it is filled with estrogen. So of course, it is a grand incubator of female behavior patterns. News of the disaster traveled quickly up and down the corridors, in and out of classrooms, until every teacher buzzed about it in hallways, beyond closed classroom doors.

As soon as she caught wind of it, one teacher ran out, hot on the librarian's heels, saying, "I can't let her be all alone when she sees the damage."


Another teacher, in response to the news, remarked, "Oh that is just terrible. But thank goodness it didn't happen at night when she was asleep."

A third colleague, teary eyed and weeping, said, "My students keep asking me why I'm crying. I told them it's because I'm so sad. I just called my burglar alarm company and made sure my fire alarm is connected to their system so that if my house catches on fire the firemen will get there fast. It's just so scary when you think about it. And I left my cat in the laundry room this morning. If my house did catch on fire, I worry about what would happen to my cat. I should put a note on my door when I leave home to let firefighters know to try to save my cat." She shed more tears and blew her nose and went on and on.

There is empathy. There is sympathy. Then there is downright thievery.

It's funny how the very women who shun thrift store fashions, are the same ones who crave hand-me-down drama. They latch on to another person's crisis and make it their own tear-filled, fate changing, woe is them, life altering meltdown. In essence, out of fear that they will never have their own perfect storm of attention demanding drama, they steal another woman's crisis right out from under her.

How to spot 'em:
Sympathizers: They keep a distance, and are known to give a pat on the hand accompanied by a platitude such as, "Dahlin', everythin' will be fine. You all will be just fine." Casseroles and hams often come with the reassurance and are used as a barrier between the sympathizer and the scene.

Empathizers: These women come to your house, clean it without judgement, and sit in the bathroom with you while you cry until the well runs dry. No empty words cross their lips. They don't just bring a meal, they dish it up and serve it to you to make sure you eat. Empathizers never fear your pain.

Thieves: These ladies pat your hand, bring a casserole, and take your tissues. Before long, they've got themselves so worked up about all the what ifs and how they narrowly escaped such and such, that you're comforting them with, "Sugah, it'll be alright. You hang in there."

Which one are you?

Think about it.

Match Day

Oh to be young and carefree and bolder than is warranted

by good common sense.

My brother-in-law and his wife, expecting their first baby, are celebrating Match Day today. After four years of medical school, he now has a residency to conquer. And med school seniors have a very special process for finding out where they will spend the next 2 years of their lives - Match Day. In a formal ceremony, after professors and other speakers have ceased speaking all their obligatory words of inspiration, they begin handing out white envelopes filled to the seal with destiny.

Each student, when his or her name is called, walks across the stage to retrieve the envelope designated as his or hers. Then the students makes what must seem like an even longer walk back across the stage, clutching mystery in a sweaty palm.

The Envelope Please.
The crisp, clean, white envelope contains the name of the city and hospital of each M.D. candidate's residency. With a rip and a tear, which they all swear is no reflection of their surgical precision, the mystery place is revealed, and life turns on a dime and shoots off in a different direction. And they find themselves free to lay down the burdens of one place to seek and find the thrills of another.

I want an envelope.
Frankly, I'm jealous. I want an envelope. I want that freedom to just go where someone told me to go, without ever having to make the decision myself. I want to go on an adventure that makes left turns and zig-zags to places I wouldn't have chosen for myself. I want to experience that emotion of change.

But, I'm a southern lady, and I well know the difference between foolish and fearless. It is foolish to believe that life would be any different somewhere else than it is right here. When the sport of it wore off, I'd have the same problems in a different place.

The quality of my life depends more on what I do with it than where I live it. (Although, admittedly, if I drew an envelope that took me from my southern home, I would probably try to rig my next draw to bring me back.)

Making my own Match Day.
That doesn't make my desire for venturesome behavior any less intense. So I stuffed some envelopes of my own. I put in slips of paper that say things like, "Go get ice cream," "Take the kids to a movie," "Have your nails done," "Take your husband on a date," "Day trip to the beach," etc. When I need a little fearless fun, I plan to pull an envelope and do whatever it says.

TODAY'S ASSIGNMENT: In your Book of Lists, brainstorm a list of things you would like to do but rarely make time for or let yourself indulge in. Then write the ones you really like on slips of paper and seal them in envelopes. Keep your stack of stuffed envelopes in a safe place, and pull one whenever you feel like you're making too many right turns and you need a curve in your road. Commit yourself to going wherever the envelope sends you.

Define Yourself

. . . failure meant a stripping away of the inessential. I stopped pretending to myself that I was anything other than what I was.
--J.K Rowling, June 5, 2008, Commencement Address to Harvard Graduating Class

I must have been about 12 years-old when my grandmother, Mama T, visiting us from Memphis, sat me down and said in her aristocratic drawl, "Lucy, I think it's time I told you about our heritage." A few years later, when she met one of my high school boyfriends, she calculatedly whispered loud enough for him to hear, "Tell me, who are his people?" She didn't want me shooting the fish at the bottom of the barrel, for certain.

My heritage includes American heroes, Civil War officers, powerful family matriarchs, n'er-do-wells, outlaws (by trade and by name), and some sorry SOBs, alike. My people are genteel, aristocratic, alcoholic, crazy, and proper as they come. Our background initiated Mama T and her female descendants into exclusive women's organizations like Junior League, Daughters of the American Revolution, United Daughters of the Confederacy, Colonial Dames, the local garden club, and the choice bridge group. She took exquisite pride in who we are and where we come from.

Like most southern ladies - like my grandmother - I learned to define myself by my name, my husband's occupation and income, who my daddy is, my home, my family history, my "stuff." Belles cling to these things like a lifeline and display them like neon letters on theater marquees, lest anyone mistake us for someone or something we are not.

Who are we, though, when these things fall apart, stripped away from us? Divorce, financial ruin, family scandal, downsizing - these things DON'T jive with our personal definitions. As J.K. Rowling told the Harvard graduates, ". . . we all have to decide for ourselves what constitutes failure, but the world is quite eager to give you a set of criteria if you let it." And as we all know, the southern world, for all its sweetness and charm, gladly welcomes the drama of a failed Dixie diva. Front porch frequenters thrive on it.

But in these circumstances, we are forced to make a decision to drown in our sorrows or discover who we really are. We must, therefore, define ourselves, following three essential rules:

1. Let go of the need to rely on breeding, history, or husband to tell the world just who you are. Those things are all fine and well, but they aren't the complete depth and breadth of us.

2. NEVAH, NEVAH let other people decide for you.

3.Be flexible. Change your definition as needed.

My own personal definition:
•Lucy, n. - A woman of great talent who is always happy, but never content.

TODAY'S ASSIGNMENT: Follow the three rules and define yourself. Write it on a sticky note and put it on your monitor. Record it in your Book of Lists.

Who is Lucy Adams?

See for yourself:

Two Ways to Live Fearlessly in a Bad Economy

Things are bad, and according to Obama, they're going to get worse before they get better. Woe is us. Cash flow is low; job instability is high. Uncertainty prevails.

My husband and I have micro-analyzed our family budget, looking for even the smallest expenditures we can cut. At dinner the other night, we announced to our kids that we are having our cable turned off. They moaned. They griped. They groaned.

"Why?" they whined.

"Well y'all," I explained, "we've just got a bad economy right now."

"If you've got a bag of money," said the youngest, exasperatedly, "can't you use that to buy our TV shows?"

She understands what's happening about as well as the rest of us. And there truly is no use sitting around listening to pundits explain it or trying to decipher it ourselves. It is what it is, and somewhere in it is a fresh opportunity, a door waiting to be opened.


In the meantime, here's how I'm keeping up the fearless life in the face of darkening adversity:

1) I've decided to value making memories over purchasing products, substance over stuff, experiences over expenses. Instead of spending money, I'm spending time. A happy memory lasts a lot longer than the thrill over a new pair of shoes.


2) I'm being honest with myself about the things over which I have control and the things I don't. In the past, God has used the chaos or confusion of a difficult situation to build me into a better person. I have faith that those things I can't control are in His hands. He will take care of me.

And maybe, somehow, some way, on the other side of all this, the bad economy really will turn into a bag of money.

Living Fearlessly to Fight Breast Cancer

After reading Tuck Your Skirt In Your Panties and Run, Phyllis posted this on my FaceBook wall:

Lucy, just wanted to let you know I love your book, TUCK YOUR SKIRT IN YOUR PANTIES AND RUN! I have almost finished it and I want you to know the story on pages 47 & 48 really inspired me. In fact you inspired me so much that I shaved my head, but not for money, for support of my sister-in-law who has breast cancer. When I saw your picture and you looked so great, I knew I could do it too. Thank you so much for sharing your gift of writing, sense of humor and inspiration. Keep up the good work!!!
Love, Phyllis

Phyllis's is the face of fearlessness.

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What will you do today to live a fearless life?

Find out more about joining the fight against breast cancer here and here.