2010

It's New Year's Eve, 2010. The start of another decade.

Yesterday I was driving to the fitness center to go to a class when I tuned into NPR. One of the byproducts of living in the Lowcountry is that you have to drive a lot. I'm not used to that. And, when I'm driving, I find I listen to the radio.

The participants on the radio show were doing a "Decade Retrospective." Gee, I was just looking back over the events that had taken place over the past year...when I am challenged to think about everything that's happened, that's touched me, in the last decade? It seemed overwhelming.

The theme of the program was "Politics: 1999-2000 and covered the following: the impeachment attempt of Bill Clinton; the 2000 election with the Florida recount; the attack on the World Trade Center; the counterattack in Afghanistan and invasion of Iraq; Huricane Katrina and finally, the election of 2004. All of these events touched me in one way or another personally, some directly, some indirectly. What a decade. Wonder what the next one will hold...

Catching Up With You...

Hi everyone -- I'm back.

I've missed talking with you. You see, it's been a crazy couple of months. Easter came and went...I spent the week with my parents in CT, helping them to get the house ready for the big move to Chicago.

Here's an accounting of the weekends that followed...

Landon and I had our first wedding anniversary.
Landon's son Bo graduated from college.
Mother's Day was spent in CT with my mom, dad, and sister as we poured through the house, knowing that in 14 days, we'd be moved out.
I celebrated my "special day".
The following weekend was "the move."
Back to the Lowcountry where I needed some time to recoup and re-establish.

And, here I am.

My intention is to backdate some posts and to take you through that journey with me. It was the best of times, with some challenging times, but all in all, a lot packed into a short period of time.

Jump on and I'll take you for that ride!

Young Creatives: Luke and Luke

My newphew Luke is going to film school this summer. He is 8 years old.

Last night, I went to a neighbor's house and we talked about a product she gave us the other day. It's a hot sauce called "Devil's Potion", Authentic West Indian sauce. (Medium)

Who makes it? Her 14 year old grandson. 14 years old and he has formed a company because he always wanted to be an entrepreneur.

Whenever you are tempted to become disheartened by the state of the US economy, I want you to think of the "Young Creatives" of today -- kids 8 and 14 years old who are creating and making things happen. The entrepreneurial gene is very strong in this country, and provided that our government creates and enforces policies that encourage small business and entrepreneurs, we will continue to be leaders in this global economy.

New York State of Mind

I'm flying up to New York to spend Easter with my parents -- and to help them with their upcoming move.

As we fly over the city, I feel a familiar sense, not quite like I'm coming home, but that everything feels familiar; the houses in Queens, the city in the distance, the web of street lights below. It was comforting, and at the same time, I realized it's not my life any more. I wondered, "If I were still living here, what would I do this evening?" I couldn't really imagine what I would do -- and that's when I knew that my life has changed and my center had really shifted.

It's a strange feeling, really. When I'm in South Carolina, I feel that I'm home because that's where my heart is, that's where my love is, and still, the environment feels very strange to me. All around me, the air, the smells, the strange creatures, all of it feels so unfamiliar and I feel discombobulated when I feel at home in a place that feels so alien to me.

I'm home, but it's not home. Do you know what I mean?

They Scooped Our Poop

Yes, that's right.

Today the septic tank cleaners came to our home to pump the poo. Now, how's that for alliteration?

Why am I telling you this? Because I wanted to write a blog post with that headline. Because I wanted you to know that I appreciate potty humor. Because I can be puerile...and after all, Everyone Poops! Oh yeah, that book has already been written...

OK, no more poop posts! At least for now...

The New Leslie

I am no longer Leslie J. Evans.

I am now Leslie Evans Thorne. My new social security card came in the mail today. It’s official.

It is a strange thing to change your identity. Sure, you can say that it is simply a name change and nothing more, but that’s not how it seems to me.

The Leslie J. Evans of yesterday doesn’t exist any more. She has been replaced by Leslie Evans Thorne.

I liked the Leslie J. Evans. She was fun and she liked to have fun. She would swing dance and figure skate and go to hear classical music and swim at Bally’s gym and network and meet people and walk in the park and give church services and hang out with her friends and go to Connecticut to see her parents. She was independent, single, a career woman. Well, not really a career woman, not in the sense that she sacrificed her life for her work because she sees her “work” as an opportunity to express who she is in the world and in that sense, “work” is “play.” And, since she loves to play, she loved to work.

Who is the new Leslie Evans Thorne? I don’t know yet. She’s married to Landon, which is a dream come true, and she’s living in South Carolina in a beautiful home with lots of love and support, for all of which she is grateful. But, she knows that she is in a chryallis state, a state of becoming. What will she become? Who will she be? Time will tell…

Will she become a horseback rider? Will she become a media star with an Internet TV show? Will she ever finish her two books? Will she become a farmer? Will she become a cook? Will she fall in love with the Lowcountry and not want to leave? Who will she be inside? Will she be loving and generous and grateful and full of grace? Or could she become bitter, unhappy, sad?

The exciting thing is that if she stays fully aware and is conscious about the choices she makes in her life, she can create the Leslie Evans Thorne of her choosing and help her to become the woman she always wanted, and knew that she could, be. Fat or thin, blond or brunette, these things don’t really matter. What matters is that she is able to grow into the woman she aspires to be. And, that is her personal definition of success.

Apologies to My Readers

Geez, I'm really falling down on my regular writing -- don't you worry, I've accumulated quite a numer of posts to share with you -- posts about readjusting, getting ready for spring, teaching seminars, redecorating, elder care -- all sorts of stuff. This weekend I'll write them up and start posting -- one a day.

Stay tuned...and thanks for coming back!

Happiness Is...

In the morning, my husband and I take time to appreciate each other.

This morning he said to me: "My job is to make you happy. No, that's not it. My job is to create an enironment where you can find your own happiness."

That's an enormous distinction that has taken me years to figure out. I have lived my life, wanting others to be happy, doing for them, trying, expending energy to make them happy. To no avail. And, to my detriment.

What I've learned is...you can't make any one happy. They have to choose it for themselves. Easy to say, hard to do sometimes. The most important thing is to understand that not only is it impossible to make someone else happy, but it is not your responsibility either. They must choose for themselves.

It's very hard to sit and watch somone else close to you actually choose to be unhappy. I have people right now, not my husband, who are choosing, unconsciously or otherwise, to be unhappy, feeling victimized. It has caused me pain. Now I see that it's the best that people like this can do and I have compassion for them. In some way, it serves them to be unhappy. Whether they define themselves as the victim and enjoy the attention and perceived sympathy, which they mistake for love, or whether they like being unhappy because of the drama and attention, or whether they choose to be unhappy and complain because it keeps them from seeing possibilities and living life fully, staying in their confined comfort zone which makes them feel safe, or finally, whether they feel unloveable, unworthy of love, and believe that unhappiness is their destiny, I have no idea. So, I just stand by. And, love.

A friend wrote to me the other day and told me that she wasn't feeling well, that she had a cold, that her father had been staying with her, and that it made her sad that all he did was talk about how badly he felt. Here's what I wrote to her: "Here's my guess about your dad. He's feeling lonely and wants to be loved. The best way he can find to feel that love is to make people feel sorry for him because he doesn't feel well. so he chooses to complain about how he feels to engender the feelings of sympathy, which he mistakes for love. Try to find a way to love him without feeling sucked into feeling guilty or sad or sympathetic, without being sucked into his pain. You can love him, on your terms, generously and unconditionally. "

All I can do is love such people, an act which which seems difficult to do sometimes. But, then I remember what my dear friend Kelly says: "Everything is either an expression of love or a cry for love." I see choosing to be unhappy as a desparate cry out for love. So, I just love. Really love. Provide unconditional love, seeing them as loveable, and holding a space for them to walk into that love, whenever they are ready to accept it for themselves. Love is all around them. They just can't see it.

Do you know you are loved? I mean, really loved. Unconditionally loved? If not, you might want to watch this movie, called Do You Know?

Click here to watch: http://www.bettertobless.com/movie3.html

Blog Review

Last week, a girlfriend sent me an email, which said:

“So, I took a look at your website! I love the blog entries - if someone didn't know you, they might find it all self-indulgent, but I find it quite interesting, amusing, thought-provoking!”

Over the weekend, I went to an oyster roast where I saw a neighbor who told me: “I have been reading your blog. I get to know you much better than I do by talking to you at dinner parties.”

Just today, I was talking to another friend in our community who said to me:

“Why do you write your blog? It’s very interesting. I know more about you than I do my best friend.”

So, why do I write this blog? There are many reasons…

This life transition is a HUGE one for me – from single to married, North to South, urban to rural, everything is different. As I may have written before, when I came down to the Lowcountry to be with my husband, I decided to be happy. Yep, I just decided to be happy. I believe that you can choose to focus on the good in your life, from the way the sunlight shines through the trees to the kindness of new friends to the excitement of learning about a new place and its experiences. Or, you can decide to be unhappy and focus on all the things from your old experience you are lacking in your new one (like Starbucks’ lattes and the home delivery of the New York Times).

Having said that, I knew that despite this decision to be happy, it would be challenging sometimes because the life shift is so big, and it is occurring on so many levels – mental, emotional, spiritual and professional.

I wanted to chronicle that shift, to capture the newness of it all, to shine a Yankee light on the Southern ways in order to give a fresh perspective to people of the Lowcountry who are so familiar with this way of life down here that they might not see certain things, in the same way that tourists used to give me fresh eyes to see New York, and to give Yankees a view into the Southern lifestyle which, in their eyes, is like the movie Deliverance. I wanted to describe the hilarity of my new life -- , especially when you compare that life to my life in the city. (BTW, my husband is especially hilarious. More on this in another email…I’ll be showcasing his hilarity!)

Finally, I know I’ll learn and grow and transform in the process and I would like to share that process with my readers. I have accepted that my new life will probably be a ride, and that there will be scary as well as exhilarating moments. Come and join this ride with me. It will take us places, I know.

Clearing Clutter Stuff

Last weekend, my husband went to North Carolina to attend a business meeting and to ski. Our house is about a 6 hour drive.

I had a decision to make. To join my husband or to stay here in South Carolina where I could continue my nesting process -- unpacking boxes from my apartment in New York, rearranging furniture in the house and creating that sense of home for us. (Here's my office, where I've been sorting through boxes and papers! Can't believe I'm showing you this!) It seems like just as I'm about to get into a rhythm here in the Lowcountry I launch off somewhere else-- to New York or elsewhere. This feels disruptive to my settling in and establishing rhythms.

As a newlywed, I don't like being away from my husband. After all, it took me a half a lifetime to find him. And, we have so much fun together -- on an hourly basis -- that I miss the laughter and lightness when he's not here. I also LOVE to snowski, and I knew the weather reports were for about a foot of snow in the North Carolina mountains. It's so romantic to be in our NC house with the fireplace blazing, the snow falling, and sitting in the overstuffed leather chairs that face the floor to ceiling windows that look out over the valley and the mountains in the distance. Ahhhhh....

That house has a special resonance for me because it was in that house that Landon and I really started falling in love as it was a rendez-vous place during our courtship, a convenient location between New York and South Carolina. But, at some level, I knew that it just felt right to stay in our South Carolina house so that I could create order in our home, especially in my office. I still had 7 boxes of papers that I brought from New York that had to be sorted and filed or tossed so that I can really start building my business from a clean platform. There was a symmetry to our decision. My husband got to spend time going through 'stuff" and recreating space in the mountains as I went through my "stuff" in the Lowcountry.

Going through stuff connects you to memories of the past -- what you did, what you didn't do, the decisions you made. the things that were important to you. I went through pictures, laughed when I saw the big hair and shoulder pads of the 80's and smiled when I went through all of the family shots. I kept a lot of those. Going through stuff inspires you to consider the things you saved, to think of the reasons behind why you held onto something, and sometimes to realize that you have outgrown the need to save something that used to be precious but now is not.

Going through stuff helps you to get perspective on life's journey. It gives you a snapshot of your past -- in the context of the present. It gives you a sense of how you have grown and changed and evolved and transformed.

Going through papers led to mixed emotions. There were the half-written articles, the unfinished books, the coaching program I had planned to do but didn't. Lot's of unfinished work. Why, I wondered? I was filled with a sense of regret that I didn't bring more things to completion, but then was reminded by how much I did accomplish -- the consulting project with the British Film Association, the long-term coaching of a CEO, my first telesummit event. I finished all of those projects. And, then I realized that the only unfinished projects that I had were the ones where I was exercising my creativity, sharing my insights and theories about the workplace. Was I afraid to put them out in public for the world to see? I'm looking forward to bringing them into being now. Because now is the time.

That clearing process was cathartic. It brought me in touch with where I have invested my energy in the last 10 years, where I diverted energy, and where I would like to place my energy going forward. Now I can make a decision to bring some of these creative projects forward, if I want to and if it seems right. I'll finish some of those articles and maybe complete a book or two.

Making decisions about what to keep and what to toss is empowering because you get to choose what is important, what to clear away and that process of conscious elimination brings clarity. You get to decide what is important in your life. You get to decide what you need to move you forward. You get to decide what to strip away that is holding you back. You get to streamline and bring into focus all of those things that will impel you forward. You get to decide.

And, that is empowering.

It's Tuesday...

...and that means it is my day to write my post for the Beyond the Stuff blog. Except for one thing.

The BTS gals are on a break.

Well, we tried.

After 5 months of blogging, conversations, recorded podcasts, and an off-site, the Beyond the Stuff gals have decided to “take a break.” We are going to let everything lie for 6 weeks and see where we are.

On one level, it felt like a relationship break up. On another level, it felt incredibly freeing.

You see, there were two very divergent points of view emerging within the group. One perspective was that we should organize and push for our brand, our "business" to get viewers, to develop an audience, to "become something." We had roles, responsibilities and deadlines. There was a lot of pushing, driving, "going for it" energy.

The other point of view was that we would all commit to show up for a podcast recording each week. Beyond that, each of us would pursue opportunities for the group as each one of us individually felt impelled. One of the women began to consider book ideas, another one looked into caricatures. There was a sense of staying in flow, letting each member follow her daily inspiration and take action only when feeling that internal impulsion from something outside of oneself, divine guidance. This group believed on letting whatever it would be, emerge, and, that would be sufficient, in fact, beyond sufficient, and better than what they might have created without what felt like divine guidance. It would be what it would be...a manifestation of faith.

So, you can see how disparate these perspectives were and are. After receiving an email from one of the women who wanted to "drive" the enterprise forward, we concluded that these points of view were irreconcilable and so, short of breaking up completely, decided to take a break. Well, you know what happens when couples try to do that. It usually portends an end to the relationship. Not always, but usually.

And, so it is with us. I am very curious to see what happens from here. I sense that the women who want to drive, push, make something happen will work towards their vision and that perhaps, the women who want to stay in flow will experiment with how, staying true to themselves and their internal vision, will let something emerge. Something precious and unique.

We'll see...stay tuned...

PS. I haven't decided what to do with my blogposts over there at the BeyondTheStuff website. Think I'll migrate them over here...

Same Day, New Thoughts

Mary has left for the day. So, have Miss Flo and Miss Jackie. My husband is at lunch with his partners. I am alone in the house. Would I be lonely?, I wondered.

I decided to take advantage of the incredible weather and beauty of the day -- and have lunch outside. As I got about half-way through my lunch -- a salad with venison meatloaf, our dog Blaze came to get some pats and loving. I finished my lunch, took the plate inside and sat with Blaze on the steps.

Blaze is an enormous dog, half-Burmese mountain dog, half-Rottweiler, and scares our handymen half to death. He has a ferocious bark, but he's the most loving dog I have ever known. So, there we were, sitting on the back steps in the Carolina sun, him leaning against me, and me petting him and that's when I realized...

....everything about my new life is love. I feel it everywhere. I am just embraced by love. I feel love from my husband, from the ladies who work in the house, from Mary, Landon's assistant, from the people here at Brays, from the gentle marsh air, from the fragrant flowers -- everything speaks to me of love. And, suddenly I realize, I am happy.

I just need to establish new rhythms in my life to take care of the needs I have, that's all. When I was in New York, I developed a pattern of going out and doing things...because I was alone and I could. But, I longed for a life-partner, a husband, a soul mate, with whom I could share and enjoy life. Now I have that so it's silly to think that the same strategies that I employed as a single person would work for me know, being married.

I need to be in touch with bright, fun, thoughtful, spiritual women. So, I need to find a way to do that regularly.
I need to find ways to learn new things. I need to develop a kind of discipline to learn about the history surrounding my life here, to visit plantations, to understand the new cultures, like Gullah and Geechee African based cultures.
I love music -- and that's why Landon and I go out to hear NYC sponsored Chamber Music. And, we need to find another Blues Club now that the Brewery has closed.
I love to dance -- and I have looked into the schedules of the Savannah Swing Group and the Charleston Swing.
I love to ice skate -- and when Richie and I figure out what happened to my figure skates (lost in the mail?) I will make regular time to skate again.
I want to learn how to horseback ride. So, I just need to make time to take lessons.
I would like to get to know more folks here at Brays. So, I will make time to visit with them.
I have always dreamed of having a power boat and being able to water ski and take the boat to islands. I can do that here!

There are so many possibilities -- and if I focus on all of the options available to me, I am thrilled and excited. If I focus on what I don't have, I am miserable and sad.

My focus for the next month will be to get the house in order, to get my office in order and to create a foundation so that I can start living my life.

What do you think?

The Pendulum: Feeling Joy, Feeling Grief and Feelings in Between

Writing this blog is really very cathartic. I love being able to journal my feelings online. Hope this doesn't seem too self-indulgent to you.

I'm having a difficult time this week.

On the one hand, I feel like the most blessed individual on earth. Yesterday, it was 75 degrees, spring was in the air, and I was driving down Route 17, windows down, radio blaring and I was singing (and at one point, also driving 72 mph!) I felt the hormones kick in, like they used to in high school, and I felt young again. Spring is here! You can smell it in the air and see it in the light -- it's like someone turned on a spotlight in the sky -- and I feel things stirring in the earth. The birds are singing earlier in the morning, and I hear different songs. The snowbirds must be beginning to return north.

On the other hand, I really, really, really miss New York. And, here's the strange part. I miss it, but don't feel the need to fly up there. I was supposed to fly up to NYC next week, when my husband will be up there, but don't feel compelled to travel as I was just there. How can I really miss New York and yet not feel the desire be there? It doesn't make sense.

I guess I miss my old life. And, Landon, if you are reading this, it doesn't mean that I don't love you or that I want my old life back. I love you and feel happy beyond belief to be with you. But, I do miss my life.

I miss being able to go out to Brighton Beach on the W train if I felt the need to go out of Manhattan. I miss being able to hop a train and go out to Astoria Queens so that I can sit at Lefkos Bakery and eat my favorite baklava. I miss being able to work inside all day and then sit in a Starbucks and watch the world go by. I miss being able to walk down the street to the 92nd Street Y and hear Bill Clinton speak or Paul Krugman or David McCullough or whoever. I miss being able to go out to dance for hours to a swing band. I miss going to Carnegie Hall on a whim. I miss being able to go to a conference, meeting someone and following up and having coffee with them at a later date. I miss not knowing what might be lying right around the corner. I miss all the boroughs I didn't get to explore. I miss the creativity, the energy, the people of New York. I miss my life.

I guess this is the grieving process -- grieving for what was lost and left behind. What is so strange to me is that I willingly left this behind to be with Landon, I am happy in my new life, it has lots of new things to discover, new people to meet, new activities to learn.

At this point, I don't really know what to do. I feel the need to dig in and to nest into my new life. There are still rooms that need painting (more on that saga in another post), pictures that need hanging, boxes that still need to be unpacked. And, my office is a disaster. I really need to create a sense of order there...that's why I'm staying home while Landon will be in New York. I want to invest my energy here. Is all of this activity a diversion? It doesn't feel that way. It just feels like I need to make a commitment to my new life, which is here. I guess I am still in transition -- leaving the old and embracing the new.

I knew when I came down here that it would be different. And, I knew that if I tried to compare my new life with my old, I would be unhappy because they aren't comparative -- they are too different. So, I made the decision that I was going to be happy, and I am. But letting go is hard to do.

Any suggestions? Please comment. I'm listening...Thanks.

"Either / Or" versus "And"

I'm back in my home with my husband -- the dogs were happy to see me, particularly Blaze who practically bowled me over when he saw me get out of the car. Xena is much better behaved.

And, I was happy to see Landon. It seems like forever that we were together, even though it was only a week.

Sitting in our den, in front of the fire this morning, I'm thinking about yesterday's post and how part of me felt torn about leaving New York and coming home.

Maybe it doesn't have to be an either / or. Maybe my life can include "and." I live in South Carolina AND New York. Instead of choosing, maybe I can choose to have both. I'll never give up my love affair with New York, it's just ingrained in me. But, accepting that, I can also choose to embrace my new life and be open to different experiences. That sure feels better than having to choose one over the other. I feel much better...

It's the transitions that are difficult. When I first got to NYC, I felt like a tourist. I saw the grafetti, looked at people when I passed them, I might even have mumbled a "hi", much to the consternation of those around me. I hope they thought I was just muttering. Up there, that's more acceptable than being friendly.

Then I got back to the South and heard a "Thank you Ma'am" and "Have a good day", both of which sounded really strange to these ears which had been in Northern territory for a week.

So, I am accepting that I can have both worlds, both places which I love. Now I'll work on easing the transition between them so that it doesn't feel like I'm leaving the earth's atmosphere and re-entering, which is how it feels to me at the moment.

Do you have any suggestions for me? Anything that might make the transitions easier? I'm all ears...please feel free to comment. I love listening to my readers.

In A New York State of Mind

I’ve just arrived at LaGuardia Airport for my flight to Charleston, and I feel like I’m going home, home because home is where the heart is and my heart is always with Landon. I long to feel the rhythm of my new life in the South, a rhythm that is so closely tied to the patterns of the land.

And yet, and yet…the lure of the city beckons. I can’t get over my love affair with New York. I can remember when I was a kid, standing in front of the clock in Grand Central, waiting for my dad, and telling myself then that I knew I wanted to live in New York. And, live there I did. For 23 years.

New York City is one of the most ethnically diverse places in the world, with Brooklyn boasting more than 160 ethnicities and Jackson Heights even more. I love the city’s harmonious diversity.

When sitting on the subway, I marvel at the faces I see across from me – from Mexico, Gambia, Serbia, Korea, Croatia, China, Vietnam, Poland, along with the Irish-Americans, Italian-Americans, Jewish, Catholic and WASPs – all mingling together, a smorgasbord of nationalities, religions, languages and dialects in one place. It’s fantastic.

Why do they come? Why are people attracted to New York? For the vibrancy, the energy, the creativity, the possibility, the opportunities. The dream. “If I can make it here, I can make it anywhere,” sings Frankie and we all try to make it here. Some do and some don’t, but most of us try. Us. Hmmmm. I still see myself as part of it. The aspirational motivation that defines New York.

New York is a walking city. I used to walk everywhere to get around – to the subway, to the park, to work, from work, to the store, to restaurants, to my friends’ places, to parties, to museums, to ice skating, to coffee shops, to bookstores. It’s all about walking. Because you never know what you’ll see or what you’ll stumble upon.

The singular thing that most tourists miss about the city is that New York is a city of neighborhoods. I have lived in several different ones. When I first came to the city, I lived in the West Village which was local and full of artisans and merchants and less trendy than it is now; up to Spanish Harlem where our local Cuban wine merchant closed at 6 pm on Fridays so that we could try his new bottles; to all over the Upper West Side, from 73rd to 89th and always between Central Park West and Broadway. At one point, I was moving every nine months.

In my last West Side apartment, I lived with my college roommate, Karen. We had an incredible place – with two bedrooms, two baths, a fireplace and most of all, an outside garden which Karen took care to plant because even though she was an investment banker, she had studied to be a landscape architect. I was subletting from her roommate who had just gotten married. Unfortunately, she decided that she wanted to have a toe-hold in the city and that I would have to move. And, that’s when it happened. I had to move to the East Side.

There is a HUGE rivalry between the Upper West Side of Manhattan and the Upper East Side, a divide which few overcome. There is a kind of unwritten understanding that if you live on the West Side, you would never consider living on the East Side (even though it’s just across the park). Moving from one “Side” to the other is like switching your loyalty from the NY Yankees to the Boston Red Sox. It just isn’t done.

Initially, I was devastated. But, eventually, I learned to like the East Side, and even decided that I preferred to live there. There were more dry cleaners, supermarkets…it was just easier to live day-to-day. Once I got there, I never left. Until now.

So, now I’m living in the South. It’s strange because the Lowcountry, while gorgeous and inviting, doesn’t feel like home. It feels like a pretty place where I live, and the people are kind, but it lacks the kind of deep resonance with my soul. Or, who knows? I’m writing this on the plane as it takes me from my city to the country. Perhaps, as Billy Joel writes, I’m just in “a New York state of mind.”

The Housing Market -- Up Close and Personal

My parents are moving to Chicago to be in an independent living place. We are thrilled for them that they found a place that everyone likes, including my mom.

Their house is on the market – we put it on priced to sell. It’s on for $100,000 below the appraised value.

Here’s the thing: they can’t move into the new place without either selling the house or getting interim financing. So, I decided to visit some local banks to talk to them about our borrowing need. Yes, in this market. I felt like a walking statistic.

I visited with 4 banks – and basically told them that we wanted an interest only, two-year term loan (bridge loan?) of a certain amount, secured by the house. I also communicated to them my parents’ investments and monthly fixed and investment income. Here’s the outcome of those conversations:

Bank #1: The woman was delightfully friendly, but informed me that the only type of loan or financing they could provide was a home equity loan and because the house was on the market, she couldn’t provide it. Apparently, if we had asked for this before the house went on the market…no problem. She went on to explain that a home equity loan was considered to be a long-term loan and the bank was afraid that they would lose money on the loan if we sold our house next month. I offered to pay a pre-payment penalty. No can do, she said.

Bank #2: I went to the bank where my parents had done business for over 30 years. “Oh, you want a home equity loan? I’m sorry, we don’t do those if your house is on the market,” the bank manager said. Really, I thought? Because I spoke to someone else in your bank who was willing to write the loan for me – I even have the papers – but am not interested because the loan rate was prime + 2. That’s too much. Oh yeah, and I can’t stand that the guy calls me “hon” whenever I call.

Bank #3: This bank is a newly-formed local bank. I went to speak to a loan officer in my hometown, based on a referral I received from Bank #1. The guy listened intently to my story, told me of another customer he had helped in a similar situation, and went to find out whether he could obtain the approval to do the loan (because the house is on the market.) They are willing to do it. I’m thrilled – and their rate is below prime. He gave me the application form and told me that they could have an answer to us in a week. I now understand the value of “going local.”

Bank #4: I was tired and hungry (it was 3:30 pm and I hadn’t had lunch) but I decided to go to one more bank. So, I walked in. This bank was a little scruffy, and dirty, but the woman at the information desk was friendly and helpful so I didn’t mind. She brought me to the bank manager, a plump, unkempt woman, obviously a smoker. I thought to myself: don’t judge, she could be “the one” and, sure enough, she was great! I watched her face intensely focus as I was explaining the situation. She told me her bank wouldn’t do a home equity loan if the house was on the market, but that if I would take the house off the market for a week before I called her, she would write up the loan and it would take 2 – 3 weeks to get it approved.

So, there you have it. One bank with with an unequivocal “NO”, one bank with a "yes" and a "no", one bank with a creative approach and a banker with enough common sense to see that she could find a way to do a loan and make money for her bank (and help us in the process). I was so unimpressed with the lack of creativity and business initiative of these banks, and their bureaucratic bankers. It’s no wonder that the banks are in trouble. What I found was that if they didn’t have a bank “product” that met my need, they were unwilling, or unable, to help me. Don’t they understand that the market has changed? They still have a policy on the books that they can’t do home equity loans if the house is on the market because they are afraid that the house will sell quickly and they won’t be able to get a return on their money.

Hey banks – I have some advice for you. Instead of finding ways to say “no” and losing out on making some money, why don’t you look for a way to make such a loan profitable for you? All you have to do is to impose a pre-payment fee. Make it 1%. That will more than cover your costs and still allow you to make money on top of that. Wake up!

Thoughts From A Northerner

I come from a place that doesn't understand the South. Here's a message I just received on Facebook, from a friend I used to have in college. Read on...

"SC?! Good grief. I hope you love him! Is this your second try? I'm looking for a second try now. What are you dong down there? Who can you talk with? My brother is in progressive Asheville, NC, and he can't stand much of the southern bits that penetrate into his life."

Just some Yankee abolitionist thoughts for the day...

Inner and Outer Worlds

As I reflect on my life, I realize that many of my postings are about the external changes in my world – moving from “The City” the country, single to partner, new activities, new pastimes, new friends. The most significant changes are actually the ones happening in my inner world – how I am adapting to my new life – the emotional challenge of leaving what is familiar, what is comfortable for something totally new, the challenge of letting go.

When I made a decision to leave my old life in New York City to embrace my new life in the Lowcountry, I knew one thing. I knew that I needed to move forward and create a new life. I knew that if I tried to hold on to the old life while moving into the new, the transition would be slow and difficult. I also knew that if I compared my new life to my old one I would be unhappy because there are a lot of things I would no longer have. Of course, there are many new and exciting things I'm experiencing in my new one.

I also knew that I could simply decide to be happy. I could choose to be happy and to focus on all the good things I have in my new life. Or, I could decide to be miserable and focus on all the things I no longer have in my life. (like a coffee shop around the corner!) I choose to appreciate the good at hand, and guess what? It's working...I am happy...blissfully happy.

The Inauguration

Well, I'm sitting in a hotel room in Atlanta, watching the Inauguration of Barack Obama. My husband is at meetings nearby and I told him that I would be happy to accompany him as long as I could sit in front of a TV all day so that I could watch. And, watch I did. From 1o am to 10 pm.

Read my posting on Beyond The Stuff at http://www.beyondthestuff.com/ to see my reaction to the day -- and feel free to comment.

I remember when I attended the first Inauguration of Ronald Reagan. It was 1981, I was an intern for a Republican Congressman, and inaugurations back then were different from today. I was given a pass to stand really close to the podium and could see the swearing in perfectly. The only other thing I remember was how cold it was and the fact I was on crutches. Oh yeah, I also remember going to the Youth Ball and seeing what smooth dancers Ronnie and Nancy Reagan were, particularly as compared to Barbara and George Bush Sr.

Think of how much has happened since then. Ronald Reagan danced through two terms. By the second term I was working for a prominent Republican Senator. I had been given great tickets to the Second Reagan inaugural -- tickets which I was able to share with my parents and sister, which was great -- but unfortunately, it was so cold that they cancelled the outside event, moving it inside and so we watched together on the TV in the Senator's office.

Then we had one term of George Sr, followed by Bill Clinton. At that point, I was a Republican, voting Democratic. By the time Al Gore and W. came up to bat, I was a registered Independent, having made a conscious choice to leave the Republican party when the Republican-led Congress tried to impeach President Clinton. I couldn't quite bring myself to become a Democrat. That was 2000. By 2004, I had had enough. I was ready to fight for my country. Not by enlisting, but by doing everything I could to support the candidate of my choice.

I can remember the first time I heard him speak..."What I want to know...what I want to know...what I want to know is what are so many Democrats doing giving the President unilateral authority to invade Iraq...." It was the first time I heard someone publically disagree with the President. Out loud. In public. I was blown away. Someone actually said -- in a public forum -- what I had been thinking privately. Wow. Before that, no media outlet or prominent politician dared to challenge the President. But, this candidate did. He was smart and unafraid, or as one of his young supporters put it: "He had 'brains and balls.'"

And, so, I became a registered Democrat so that I could support him and vote for him in the primary. I gave money, I attended meetings, I wore a tight t-shirt and stood at the Staten Island ferry so that I could hand out fliers to commuters coming off the boat, flyers which invited them to a rally in Bryant Park. (10,000 people showed up!) I flew to Iowa, by myself, at my expense, and for 5 days, in subzero weather, knocked on doors, made phone calls, canvassed, cajoled, and slept in rooms with strangers. Finally, I monitored a caucus in a middle school for the campaign.

He didn't win. But, it didn't matter. The movement he started culminated in the landslide election of Barack Obama. Only his supporters know how much of what he did -- his pioneering of Internet fundraising, his appeal to the youth vote and efforts to get them registered. Even his campaign slogans were echoed in Obama's campaign. "Yes, we can."

Howard Dean will always be remembered for his "scream." I will always remember him for his "dream." Let's Take This Country Back. Which is exactly what we have done.

Rhythms of My Life

I long to feel the rhythms of my life…

I need to stay in one place, to establish the rhythms, to bring my life in harmony with the rhythm of life around me, to bring me a sense of peace.

This year alone, we have had children coming and going…
We have gone to Charleston to withdraw ourselves, to proactively create the rhythms of our lives, only to come home and have to prepare for an offsite, of three days of guests, followed by a day of intense productivity, two days of being down for the count, a day of recreational recovery, followed by a day of driving to the mountains.

The activity is too much. I long to feel the rhythm of my new life.

The rhythms of my new life in South Carolina are gentle and slow and natural and beautiful. I wake up before the sunrise, pray and write and prepare before the day arrives, when the ladies of the household arrive and I make breakfast for my husband and visit with the dogs before I begin my day up in my office.

It’s all so new. I am responsible for running the household, for maintaining the outside, for cooking, for entertaining.. I don’t mind because I love caring for, nurturing, my new husband in our new sense of home. The other night, around 9:00, I was sitting in the leather chair, with my husband curled up on the sofa and our dog Blaze at his feet and I felt completely content. Blissfully content.

I also feel the stress of having to reinvent a new business in South Carolina, excitement and stress, because I know I can do it, but there is so much to do.

I also want to venture out socially, meet new friends, follow up on people’s overtures to me, have dinner parties. But, there is never the time.

Church is important to me – and I would love to create a new sense of church here in the Lowcountry, but I’m away for half of the Sundays.

So, here I am in the mountains of North Carolina, where it is beautiful and clear and cold, and I realize. I need to stay in one place and focus and feel the rhythm of my new life. I am still in a state of transition, a fragile chrysalis state of moving from my former state of Miss Leslie, career girl in New York City, dancer and skater, helping daughter to Linda and George, to Mrs. Thorne, wife of Landon, step-mom to David, Landon, Bo and Chas, keeper of the household, social secretary to the Thornes, business colleague of the Beyond The Stuff gals, and lady of the Low Country. I will cherish and give myself the space to feel my way through this transition and embrace every moment of the journey. That will be my gift to myself. To honor my rhythms. To be in the flow. Every day.