Barbara Brooks created Flamingo Strategies LLC to help clients stand up and stand out, through telling and sharing their stories of impact and purpose.
Hacking Away at Happiness is her blog.
Whether our habit is to blow all our dough on Manolo Blaniks, or stuff it under a mattress, we really can improve our relationship with money.
Play allows us to germinate new ideas or see old ideas in a new light. It makes us more inquisitive, more attuned to novelty, more engaged.
I planned to give the shaman nothing to go on. Until Tom said: You’re not going there to play Stump the Shaman. You’re going there to learn.
Fear of missing out is a powerful thing. But once we put that aside, we can appreciate that we are on the right path. The only path.
It’s been six weeks since my accident, and I think I’m ready to stop counting. I’m ready to move on. But I’m not ready to forget what I’ve learned.
Painting with watercolor helped me heal. In my process, I saw a metaphor for how we create our lives. I saw hope for the New Year.
How can people like me—people like us—embrace essentialism without sacrificing the enthusiasm that is our power?
Even on the days we feel scared or bored or invisible, of this we can be certain: The best years of our lives lie just “over the hill” up ahead.
The fate of the Earth already is inscribed. But through our actions, we have a fantastic opportunity save our planet from doom.
Life can be hard. But every difficulty or setback also brings the potential for beneficent outcome.
We must send our little birdies out of the nest. Even if they say they need us, or we believe we need them, it’s better to cut the cord.
Why is it necessary to do the hard thing? Because the path of least resistance is a terrible teacher. And the obstacle is the way!
There’s nothing selfish about noticing the rhythm of your offers, and what comes back in your direction. If something feels out of whack, it probably is.
For quieting the monkey mind, there’s nothing better. It forces mindfulness, reinforces simplicity, and even subsistence tasks bring joy.
Swimming is refreshing. It’s meditative. It’s an act of total immersion. But landlocked is a state of mind.
If you study the market and know your stuff, you can choose the best time and place to try that big thing for which you aren’t quite prepared. As the kids say: you can “send it.”
Whether we aim to jumpstart our writing—or to make sense of our lives—isn’t everything we need to know located in the glimmers we experience or observe?
There can be huge return on quitting (ROQ). But only if we actively commit to something that is of greater value to us.
With aging—as with cooking or any other creative pursuit—we need to master the basics before we can play around. Hooray for us. At 40 and 50+, we are masters!
My podcast habit begs the question: When is listening—or, for that matter, writing this blog—a valid use of time, vs. a trip down a rabbit hole?
