Some days (or weeks or months or projects or relationships) feel like an uphill battle. Like we're trudging along, taking one step after another but never seem to get to the top. It's more like a treadmill or stair climber than a hike. 

One of the most profound quotes in my children's book says, "It doesn't much matter if we get to the top. What matters much more is what we do when we stop."  

While I still assert that's true (and confess it's one of my biggest lessons), it's still important to strive for something. 

I was talking with someone the other day who said to just "be" and stop trying to "do." She even suggested I write a book about "just being" with no attachment to the outcome.  

While I understand and appreciate her intention and advice, and acknowledge that I do, indeed, have an "attachment to outcome," I also believe in having goals. And that those goals should have some relationship to the amount of effort exerted. 

I created this graphic for my DrawSuccess program. The goal is to look at our tasks and projects (and really just about anything we do) and plot it from a scale of 1 to 5 on Effort and 1 to 5 on Reward. (There's a complicated microeconomic formula, but you get the gist). It helps you realize when you're laboring in the "E5-R1" box. You know, the things that you do that take enormous effort but the reward is abysmal. 

The uphill battle. 

The goal is to (a) identify these things and then (b) figure out ways to either increase your reward or decrease your effort. 

I'm sure I'll write more on this later. For now, it should give you something to think about.

Today I went skiing (as you can see – at 10:25 a.m.) – the conditions forecast was "partly cloudy." 

However, check out these photos. You have to search for those clouds. Almost as hard as you have to search for people waiting in the lift line. 

I remember visiting another town (which shall go unnamed) where their definition of a "partly cloudy" weather forecast was defined as "dark gray skies with a hint of a lighter gray).  

The message: It's all relative. 

I'm not saying we don't have gray days here. We do – and have had a lot of them. Thankfully, they usually accompany precipitation – rain or snow – both of which are welcomed and appreciated.  

Just like life, we need some gray days to help us appreciate the sunny ones. And even if there are a few (or a lot) of clouds, we need to "follow the sun." 

Yesterday ws MLK day, so I'm going to dedicate today's post to share his most meaningful quotes – which are as relevant (and important) today than ever before. 

As an artist, it can be challenging to get – and keep – a perspective on your work. The questions you ask yourself include "Who do I do this for?" "What do I want/expect from this endeavor?" and "Whose guidance should I heed, and whose should I ignore?" 

Certainly, you need to realize you can't please everyone. And you shouldn't try. Silence and holding back your thoughts might not make you any enemies, but it also doesn't attract any true friends, either.  

I'm still figuring all of this out. But I have decided that the only advice I will listen to from now on is encouragement. If someone tells me they loved a particular blog post or story or whatever and they'd like to see more like it, then I'll be eager and enthusiastic to try to please. But if they start off with criticism, or even a sentence with "you should…" I've decided I'm going to shut them down – or out – and write what I want and stop trying to please everyone. 

(I know – wish me luck. Or, better yet, encouragement).  

Whose way?

Go your own way…

I've written a few posts about fluctuating emotions. It happens to everyone; we all have our good days and bad days. Making – or having – a big change in your life invites more highs – and lows.

I've read several research studies that assert that no matter what external events occur in our lives, our internal personalities revert to what they were before after six months. Win the lottery, suffer a loss, get a new job, or even become ill, and experts say if you were unhappy before, you'd go back to being unhappy in time, just as if you were happy before, no matter the tragedy, you'd be happy again.  

I'm not sure I agree. At least not completely. It would depend, I think, on how conscious you were (are) during these changes. And, I suggest, how much control you have over the situations. Not only control over what happens, but also control over how you respond. 

The chart on this page is from the Abraham-Hicks "Emotional Guidance Scale." It's similar to a few other scales of energy/emotion, including David Hawkins' "Power vs. Force" scale. The message in each is do define and demonstrate the levels of emotions we can go through, so we can identify them when they happen. 

As the country – and planet – faces dramatic and potentially devastating change, many of us vacillate between Hopelessness (the bottom of the scale) and Anger, Blame and Worry.

Personally, I believe that Anger is a more empowered emotion than Blame, by the way. At least there's more energy behind it, and we can rally that energy to create change. 

I don't have the answers in this post. I just wanted to help the readers identify what many of us are going through. And, as they say, awareness is the first step. 

In the meantime, my advice is to do whatever you can that gives you joy. 

Do you talk to your body? If so, what do you say? To you treat him/her like friend or foe? Is it a one-way or a two-way conversation? Do you really LISTEN to what he or she is trying to tell you? 

My time here in Aspen has shifted my dialogue with my body/Inner Self. Before, "she" had slipped into the habits I lent to her, and for the most part she had been obedient. 

I can't blame "her" for the Costco tuna poisoning. She tried to warn me, but I missed the signs. It came on gradually, and with everything else that was going on in my life (my mother's illness and death), it just happened. 

But moving provided its own challenges, as anyone who reads this blog knows. Any time you make such a significant change in your life, your body must change along with you – and vice versa. I had to learn to listen to new signals she was emitting, just as she needed to learn to communicate with me in a way that I would understand. 

Now that a significant part of that trauma is behind "us," we're figuring things out day by day as the seasons change. 

The good thing about her is that she loves physical activity. I suppose all bodies do, as long as they feel like their "owner" (their "mind") is a partner in the matter. If the mind pushes the body too hard, the body rebels. If the mind denies the body its pleasures, the body will "steal" them when he/she/it can. 

Our exercise routine in Aspen is quite different from the daily habits in Atlanta. I still try to work out 6-7 days a week for 1-2 hours at a time, but since my workouts are all outdoors now, there are factors beyond my/our control. Skiing, in particular, isn't such fun for either of us when the weather or conditions aren't favorable. 

So the solution – again – is to make sure she and I are aligned on our goals. That she is as excited to get out there as I am. And that I listen to her when she's ready to quit for the day. Pushing her will only result in her pushing me back. And no one wins when that happens. 

I've been bragging all over the place that I can just open my eyes and see Ajax (Aspen mountain).  

And while I still can, a most intriguing obstacle has developed. 

My building has a top roof and then a second overhanging roof.  In between are the windows from the loft where my bedroom lies.  With so much snow happening lately, there are huge drifts on the top roof that overhang and mounds of snow developing on the lower roof. The effect is in this picture – a feeling of being enveloped in an ice cave. 

It's kind of cool.  (Pun partially intended). Actually, it has no effect on my warmth or comfort, but it does produce an oddly mysterious effect. 

I was awakened at 3 a.m. to the sound of heavy equipment outside my door. I'd become accustomed to the snow plows clearing the roads, and even if they disturbed my sleep I appreciated their existence. After all, I live in Aspen now and snow comes with the territory. And this week has gotten so much snow that there are avalance warnings and even some ski slopes closed. 

I hadn't remarked on this before, but I did find it amusing to see the 10-15 foot high mounds of snow that grew and grew from the plowing.  After all, it had to go somewhere, right? Well last night the dump trucks came to take it away.  

Gotta love it. 

When I was in college, we had to choose a science to take to fulfill our requirements.  The ones I remember are botany, biology and geology.  I chose the latter.  I’m not sure exactly why I picked “rocks for jocks” but I’m glad I did. 

First, I confess, it’s because I met a very very cute guy that I dated for a while.  But it’s also because I do find rocks and rock formations fascinating.  (With the added bonus of not having to dissect any frogs or pig brains!)

I remember learning about different kinds of rocks and their history.  Also about things like “scree” an “alluvial fans” that help when you do a lot of hiking.  (Okay, maybe not so important to know how they got there, but it is a moment of pride when you know the proper name for them). 

It also helps magnify curiosity when you go to places like the Great Sand Dunes park (see that blog) or cross the Continental Divide. 

I stumbled on this video today and thought it was interesting that there’s still so much we don’t know about the formation of the world we live in.  And being a new resident to the Rocky Mountains, it helps me appreciate the mystery of this place that much more.

Check it out: http://www.msn.com/en-us/video/wonder/the-formation-of-the-rocky-mountains-baffles-geologists/vi-BBxUuw0

As I write in a new book about "wants," I reflect on the benefits and detriments of "wanting." And the "whys of the wants." 

Is "wanting" a bad thing? Does it take you out of the moment, preventing you from appreciating what you have? Some "experts" say you can't get "more" unless you appreciate what you have, but if you already appreciate what you have, why would you want to have more? 

If I was standing before you, looking as put-together as I can, but there's a small spot on my blouse, what would you notice? If I have a big smile, but also a blemish, what do you see? If you live in a beautiful place, but complain about a day or two with bad weather, does it mean you're too spoiled? Does not being happy keep you from ever being happy? 

Or are they all signs that you need to change in some way. Change your location, change your friends, change your lifestyle, change your habits, change your job? 

These questions can only be answered by the individual. (I'm addressing my own perspective in this new book I'm writing).  I will say that if everything always stayed the same, if we had no "downs," how could we appreciate the "ups?" 

One of my favorite teachers/philosophers, Anthony de Mello, talks about the fleeting the joy of possessions. You want a new car, thinking you'll be so happy when you get it. And you are, but after a short period of time, the joy diminishes. Like with people, you take it for granted. Or, perhaps you start noticing its flaws. The spot on the blouse. The scratch on the car. The "bad weather days" in paradise.