#I was with some classmates from school and we needed to get to an orthodontist appointment but apparently we all had no parents or loved

[nauseateddrive]

SUSPENDED by Alan Swyer

About to head off to conduct an interview, Pete Tarcher winced when a call came from his soon-to-be ex-. “How busy are you?” Suzanne asked before Tarcher even had a chance to say hello.

“Very. I've got a crew meeting me in Burbank.”

“Tell 'em you need to reschedule.”

“Because?”

“Jeremy's about to be suspended from school.”

“Let me call you from the car.”

Driving west toward Santa Monica, Tarcher listened uncomfortably via Bluetooth while Suzanne briefed him about their son's predicament. Then he asked an even more uncomfortable question. “Sure he wants me involved?”

“He thinks the world of you.”

“Sure has a funny way of showing it.”

“Kids take sides when their parents are going through divorce. Plus –”

“Yeah?”

“How'd you get on with your Dad when you were that age?”

“How well do he and I get on today?”

“I rest my case,” replied Suzanne.

After hanging up, Tarcher found himself contemplating the ways in which he and his son were different yet had much in common. Whereas Tarcher, proud of his New Jersey roots, was willfully outspoken and, when necessary, eager to get in someone's face, Jeremy was very much SoCal: soft-spoken with a winning kind of shyness, except when playing baseball, where he was a smiling assassin.

It was athletics that had long served as the primary bond between father and son, with Tarcher spending countless hours mentoring Jeremy in sport after sport. Though soccer, basketball, and football were part of his early years, it was always baseball that took precedence. Initially that meant Tarcher playing catch before school, pitching Wiffle balls to Jeremy in the backyard, and hitting ground balls to him at different parks. Once Jeremy turned nine, frequent trips to a local batting cage known as Slamo were added.

It was at Slamo where Jeremy, whose classmates, post-Little League, embraced computer games rather than team sports, formed friendships with kids who shared his zeal. That in turn opened the door to travel teams. The ensuing tournaments, first across Southern California, then farther away as well, often requited overnight stays, intensifying the ties between father and son.

Upon entering high school, Jeremy promptly had an experience that mirrored one from Tarcher's youth. While getting ready for fall baseball practice on a Tuesday afternoon, Jeremy was confronted by two vatos who were in the process of shaking him down when into the locker room stepped Junior Hernandez, co-captain of the team by day and reputed gang member.

“What the fuck you doin'?” screamed Junior when he saw what was happening.

“Be cool,” replied one of the toughs. “The motherfucker's white.”

“White or not, he's my teammate!” snarled Junior, ready to do some serious ass-kicking.

That, in a different sport was a reenactment of what happened to Tarcher, whose savior was Victor Washington, captain of the basketball team and heavyweight Golden Gloves boxing champ of New Jersey.

In another way as well, Jeremy followed in his father's path. To gain acceptance from his teammates and other in-groups, he assumed a double-life: a wild and crazy jock who, without calling much attention, happened to be in the school's Honors Program.

One person not fooled by Jeremy's protective coloration was his freshman English teacher, Ms. Vaughn, who was also the adviser to the school paper. Recognizing a talent that he himself might have otherwise not acknowledge, when Jeremy misbehaved in class one day, she issued an ultimatum: serve a week's detention, which would mean missing fall practice, or join the newspaper staff. Starting as second-string sportswriter, Jeremy rose to sports editor by his junior year, which yielded a peculiar series of omissions. Since reporters were not allowed to mention themselves in their stories, as Jeremy progressed from the youngest member of the varsity to its star, the sports pages carried more and more tales of game-winning hits, and shutouts thrown, with no mention of the player responsible for the heroics.

Little surprise that by his senior year, Jeremy requested, then demanded, a transition from sports to features, which inevitably led to the call from Suzanne that had Tarcher racing across town. 

Pulling into a visitor's spot in the high school parking lot, Tarcher walked purposefully toward the administration building. He nodded to a security guard he knew from attending countless baseball games, then to a couple of students he recognized, before stepping into the principal's outer office. There he immediately received a frown from his son, who was seated unhappily on a wooden bench.

“You don't have to be here,” Jeremy grumbled.

“I don't do anything because I have to,” answered Tarcher. “I'm here because I want to be. And for the record, it was your Mom who called me.”

Without another word, Tarcher approached the reception desk. “Pete Tarcher for Anne Marceau,” he announced to the woman there.

“She's expecting you?”

“You bet.”

The receptionist picked up the phone and spoke softly for a moment, then faced Tarcher and pointed. “She's –”

“I know,” said Tarcher. As he headed toward the appropriate door, out stepped a well- dressed black woman who smiled.

“I just saw the film you made about the criminal justice system in San Diego,” Anne Marceau stated with a smile.

“If you're trying to butter me up,” replied Tarcher, “this is not the time.”

“Come in,” said the principal, ushering Tarcher into her office, then closing the door and motioning for him to take a seat. “How much about this situation do you know?”

“Let's assume I know nothing, so you can start at the beginning.”

Anne Marceau took a deep breath. “You're aware of your son's article?”

“Like I said, assume I know nothing.”

“Jeremy wrote an extended piece about a day in the life of a tagger here at school.”

“Was it informative? Well-written?”

“Not the point,” insisted Ms Marceau. “Aside from the fact that tagging is gang-related –”

“Not always –”

“Largely. This is something I know a lot about.”

“And I just fell off the turnip truck?” countered Tarcher. “Which one of us created the LA County Teen Court system?”

“Then you know what a scourge graffiti is.”

“I also know that street art is the most exciting form of artistic expression today.”

Anne Marceau took a deep breath. “You're not being sympathetic.”

“While you threaten to suspend my son? What exactly do you want?”

Anne Marceau stood and paced for a moment before again addressing Tarcher. “For Jeremy to divulge the name of the tagger who's anonymous in his article.”

“And if not, he's suspended?”

Anne Marceau nodded.

“So you're telling me that Jeremy will wind up with a black mark that could influence not merely the colleges that are recruiting him, but also the pro scouts who have been coming to see him play.”

“There are consequences in this world.”

“Want to talk about consequences?” Tarcher asked, rising to his feet. “Ever heard the word retribution?”

“I-I'm not sure I follow.”

“Didn't you say just a little while ago that tagging was gang-related?”

“What's that got to do with anything?”

“Let's suppose the guy Jeremy followed is a gang member. Think he's going to shrug if outed? Take it in stride? Turn the other cheek? You're talking about putting my son in harm's way!”

“No need to raise your voice,” said Ms Marceau warily.

“Oh, yeah? Tell me what point you're trying to make.”

“That there's a lesson to be learned.”

“And that lesson is that it's okay to be a rat?”

Anne Marceau cringed. “That's not the way I see it.”

“I don't care if you see it as red, green, purple, or blue. That's the message you're sending. So please listen to me carefully. There's no way in the world you're going to force my son to become a rat. Are we clear? I mean 100 percent clear?”

Anne Marceau took a moment to gather herself. “Okay,” she then said. “I'll consider your point. Are we done?”

“No such luck. How about something called freedom of the press? That doesn't figure into this?”

“I-I think you're making more of this than necessary.”

“Am I?” asked Tarcher. “How do you think the LA Times will respond if they hear about this? Or the local news stations? Or maybe it could even go national.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I don't threaten. I take action. As you pointed out, I make documentaries. Know what? That gives me far better and far different access than if I were, say, an orthodontist, a car mechanic, or a lifeguard.”

“You're making me very uncomfortable.”

“Well guess what,” said Tarcher. “I'm just getting started. Here's the really awkward news. Much of what I do is muckraking. Get my drift?”

“I-I'm not sure.”

“Then let me explain. It might be really interesting to make a documentary about a school that prides itself on teaching kids about their rights, then punishes them when they use 'em.”

“Mr. Tarcher –”

“I'm not finished yet. Here's what's going to happen. If my son is suspended, the first thing I'm going to do is reward him with a trip. Maybe Catalina while he's missing school. Or even better, Hawaii. Understood?”

“Pete –”

“Then I'm going to use every resource at my disposal to make the world aware of what transpired, as well as who's behind it.”

“Please –”

“Next, I'm going to explore what other students have had their freedom of expression abridged. Why? Because the more I think about it, the more I can see a documentary like this appealing to Netflix, or HBO, or maybe PBS.”

Anne Marceau sighed. “What exactly do you want?”

“You're an intelligent women. What exactly do you think I want?”

Still seated on the wooden bench in the outer office, Jeremy looked up as his father emerged from Anne Marceau's office. “So?” he asked.

Tarcher eyed his son for a moment, then spoke. “Let's just say that Koufax is still the greatest lefty ever, Greg Maddox the best righty, and Tony Oliva the best natural hitter.”

“That's all?”

“And the sun will come up tomorrow morning.”

With that, Tarcher headed toward the door, only to have his son follow.

“Wait,” said Jeremy. “I-I don't know what to say.”

“Then maybe it's best to say nothing.”

Jeremy took a moment to reflect before speaking. “Thanks,” he then offered.

“For?”

“Coming. And helping. And being my dad.”

“I'm here when you need me.”

“I know,” stated Jeremy. “But that doesn't mean I'm not still upset at you.”

Tarcher studied his son for a moment, then smiled. “Likewise.”

Back on the freeway, Tarcher couldn't help by think about the contrast between his professional and personal experiences. Because he made documentaries – about the criminal justice system, Eastern spirituality in the Western world, breakthroughs in the treatment of diabetes, and even boxing – most people assumed that he was showing the world as it is. Yet Tarcher knew full well that with his films he could exercise significant control thanks to the people he chose to interview, the questions he asked them, and above all the choices he made during the editing process by sequencing and selecting the sound bytes used.

In real life, in contrast, control ranged from minimal to none.

That made real life – and especially his life – infinitely harder.

[rosemaidenvixen]

A Secret’s Worth

Chapter 2: Jim

Ao3

 Jim stood at the entrance to Arcadia Oaks high school, feet rooted to the ground. He really didn’t want to go inside.

 After sobbing in the car for no less than a solid hour last Thursday he and his mom had gone home to spend the rest of the day crying off and on and fighting back abject misery. Next morning things weren't much better, Jim had stood at the front door for nearly twenty minutes, lunch and book bag in hand, trying to find the will to force himself to go outside and bike to school. In the end his mom had found him like that and called him out sick again. Jim ended up spending Friday hanging out in the staff lounge at the clinic visiting with his mom on her breaks.

 The entire time he had avoided Toby and only communicated with him through vague texts, dreading giving him an actual explanation for all of this.

 On Saturday Toby had forced the issue and showed up at his house in person. He hadn’t said anything, just held up a DVD of the Great British Baking show in one hand and an extra gande size bag of tacos in the other.

 If he hadn’t been completely emotionally wrung out by that point Jim would have cried.

 One weekend later that brought him here, Monday morning, getting ready to go in and face the social fallout of bursting into tears in the middle of the school. Jim wasn’t so naive as to think that there wouldn’t be any. And to add a cherry on top of the disaster sundae that today was sure to be, Toby had to go to the orthodontist and wouldn’t get here until lunch. Meaning Jim was going to be facing the tender mercies of his peers alone.

 His gut twisted, if things were hard at school before, they were about to get even harder.

 But no matter how bad this was going to be, no matter how much crap Steve and every other jerk in school was going to give him; going to in and facing the music, even without Toby’s support, was better than spending a long day alone in his house.

 Anything was better than that.

 Sucking in a final deep breath, Jim steeled himself and walked inside.

 Mercifully, he didn’t run into any trouble getting to his locker and making his way through the halls. But Jim knew better than to let that get his hopes up. Resisting the urge to hightail it to the other side of town, or preferably even further than that, Jim walked up to first period algebra and pushed the door open.

 Ms. Janeth wasn’t here yet, but more than half of the students already were. Sitting and standing around talking while they waited for class to start. The creak of the door opening caused the buzz of conversation to dim and several people to turn and stare in his direction. Which was perfectly normal, that’s just what people did when someone came into the room, they weren’t staring at him in particular. Although some of them held their gazes long enough to make him start doubting that.

 Jim made his way to his desk in silence. Just when he was about to sit down, someone’s palm made contact with the back of his head, and not gently.

 He spun around on reflex, only to come face to face with his absolute least favorite person in the world.

 “I’m surprised that you’re willing to show your face around here again      Lake    ,” Steve said with a nasty smirk “We don’t usually let crybabies come to the big kid school, but if you really want to stick around, I’m sure we can find some diapers for you,”

 Jim glowered, cheeks burning, but said nothing as he slid into his desk. From all around him came snickering and whispers of ‘Crybaby Lake’.

 Less than half an hour in and things were already going to hell. Great, just great.

 Fortunately Ms. Janeth came in less than a minute later, putting an end to the murmurs and giggles. Class was relatively normal, Ms. Janeth lecturing on algebra and working through problems while Jim tried to force himself to pay attention.

 Even though he wasn’t going to make anything of himself after high school so there was no damn point to studying algebra so what was the point of even trying anymore.

 An hour of algebra later the bell rang, signalling for everyone to pack up and head to the next class. Jim had stuffed his papers into his bag and stood up out of his desk when Ms. Janeth stepped over to him.

 “Jim, could I have a word with you?”

 He froze, a teacher had never approached him like this before, meaning that this was no doubt a direct result of his public meltdown last week  “Uh...ok,”

 She waited until everyone else had left the room, some of his classmates lingering and glancing back at them not so discreetly as they went through the door.

Once they were alone she spoke up against, voice soft “Is everything... alright with you?”

 At first Jim wasn’t sure if he heard her correctly. Was he alright? A common, innocent question. One that had him biting the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming.

 Alright.

 He was on house arrest every night, doomed to become an unemployed recluse after school was over, and one day he would die old, friendless, and alone. Of course that was all assuming no one figured out his secret and shipped him off to be alien autopsied.

 Jim was pretty much as goddamn far from alright as a person could.

 He forced a smile “Yeah I’m good,”

 Ms. Janeth frowned, apparently Jim wasn’t very convincing “Well if you ever do have any...issues, I’m here to help,”

 Jim mumbled out a thank you before making a hasty retreat and scampering off to his next class.

 Health and Spanish class were much of the same; sideways stares and whispers from his classmates, and Coach Lawrence and Señor Uhl pulling him aside afterwards to ask if everything was ok and tell him that they could help or just listen if he ever needed it.

 You know you’ve hit rock bottom when even Señor Uhl takes pity on you.

 Finally, after the longest morning of his entire life, lunch period came.

 Jim cycled through his breathing exercises as he headed into the cafeteria, stomach growling. He hadn't packed a lunch this morning; just getting up and getting dressed had been utterly draining. Even waiting in line to buy some french fries sounded unbearably exhausting. Guess that meant he was skipping today. Steve had a different lunch period, so at the very least Jim would be able to get a break from him.

 So far school was still better than being home alone, but not by much.

 He took a seat at an unoccupied cafeteria table and pulled out his phone, hopefully the new Go-go Sushi app could take his mind off of things for a bit. Jim had been at it for about ten minutes and burned through four out of five lives when Toby showed up at his table, catching him completely off guard, over an hour early and carrying a large pizza box.

 “I figured Chef Jim could use a break,” Toby beamed at him as he set the box down onto the table “So for the next five days, you let me worry about lunch,”

 Jim was stunned and more than a little touched “Tobes you--”

 “Up up up,” Toby held up a hand “Sorry Jimbo, I’m not taking no for an answer, you’re just going to have to get used to take out a la Toby for the rest of the week,”

 Tears brimmed at the edge of Jim’s vision, he blinked rapidly to dispel them before they could fall. Toby had been his rock throughout the entire disaster that was his life, never prying or asking questions, always there with cheerful support and comfort. He was the greatest friend Jim could ever have.

 It was going to hurt so so much when Toby went to college and left him behind.

 “Thanks Tobes,”

 Toby took a seat next to him and opened the box “Anytime,”

 Jim reached in and grabbed the closest slice, Toby following suit. It wasn’t until he took the first bite that he realized just how hungry he was.

 They’d been chewing their wonderfully greasy pizza in silence for a few minutes when Jim saw someone approach their table from the corner of his eye. Of course, today just had to be one of those days when Seamus decided to bother them without Steve acting as the muscle. He swallowed his mouthful of pizza and snapped his head up to tell Seamus to get lost only to freeze.

 A girl with blue streaked dark hair stood in front of him.

 It was Claire.

The Claire.

 The girl who’d been in his dreams ever since that fundraiser last February.

 “Hi,” she said with a small smile.

 Jim’s heart fluttered. Claire was      talking    to him.

 “Oh...hi,”

 “How are things?”

 Jim, fumbled, trying to remember how to put words together “Oh, uh...things are...good...I guess,”

 Claire tugged at the edge of her jacket “So me, Mary, and Darci really liked the macarons you shared with us,”

 The memory flickered behind his eyes, Toby snatching the cookies he had made the night before and sharing them with Claire and her friends in order to ‘make a good first impression’.

 Had that only happened a week ago?

 “So to say thank you...we were wondering, maybe, if you guys want to go to the county fair with us with us this weekend?”

 Jim’s mouth went dry. Of all things he expected to happen his first day back, this was not one of them “The county fair? I, uh….”

 “No pressure, think about it for a bit,” she piped up, voice half an octave higher “Let me know what you decide,”

 She scurried off, gone just as quickly as she had come.

 Jim was still trying to restart his brain when he felt Toby elbow him in the side “      Oh my gosh!    Claire just totally asked you out!”

 “What? No, you heard her, it’s a group thing, you’re invited to,”

 “Po-ta-to po-tah-to, I know what it looks like when a girl’s been bitten by the love bug. You’re going to tell her yes, right?”

 “I...don’t know,”

 An hour later Jim was sitting in history class half listening to Mr. Strickler’s lecture, still turning Claire’s offer over and over in his mind.

 A week ago, he would have said yes in a millisecond, but that was before. Thoughts of Claire still made him blush, but what could she possibly see in him? Claire had to know about Jim’s breakdown, why would she want anything to do with him? She’d said that it was a thank you to him and Toby for the macarons. But macrons wouldn’t outweigh a public crying fit. Maybe this was just a pity offer in disguise.

 Jim’s stomach knotted up as an ever worse idea took shape. Maybe this whole county fair thing was just a way to trick him and humiliate him even more.

 But Claire wouldn’t do that, would she?

 A wadded up piece of paper hit him in the back of the head, derailing his train of thought. Jim grimaced and tried to ignore it, two more wads of paper and that became impossible.

 Glancing back, Jim saw Steve smirking at him, he then pretended to rub his balled up hand against his eye, doing a bad pantomime of someone crying, Seamus and Logan snickered and high fived him behind his back.

 Jim bit back a slew of choice four letter words and turned forward again, from a few seats ahead and to the right he could see Toby shoot him a sympathetic glance.

 Seriously, could Steve just not for one hour of their lives? Jim had enough on his plate as it was.

 Class seemed to drag on forever, but finally the bell rang and the students started filing out, Jim lingered, packing up his bag with deliberate slowness. Toby waited by the door, but Jim waved him on. He hesitated, clearly uncertain, before walking away, giving Jim one final lingering glance.

 Mr. Strickler was cleaning off the blackboard, he hadn’t noticed that Jim was still here. Jim cautiously stepped to the front of the classroom, ignoring the little voice in the back of his head shouting to get out before he made things awkward and weird. Before he could act on that instinct, Mr. Strickler finally noticed him loitering.

 He turned and smiled “Ah Jim, normally I would ask if you need something, but I assume every other teacher you’ve had so far has given you some variation the same question. I’m curious, how did Señor Ulh’s offer of assistance go?”

 Involuntarily, the corners of Jim’s mouth quirked up, the expression feeling almost foreign on his face. A smile. The first genuine one in days.

 Somehow Mr. Strickler had known the exact right thing to say to make him feel just a tiny bit better, in spite of everything.

 None of the teachers here were bad, but Mr. Strickler was the one who had pulled Jim up off the floor last week, brought him to his office, let him cry until he was semi functional again, called his mom to take him home.

 Maybe it was irrational, but Jim trusted him just a little bit more.

 “Actually...there was something I wanted to ask you,”

 Mr. Strickler stopped what he was doing, putting down the rag and turning to face him fully “What seems to be the issue?”

 “Well...you see, it’s…” Jim struggled to translate the gnarled knot of emotions into words “There’s this girl,”

 “A girl?”

 “Yeah, and she wants me and Toby to go hang out with her and her friends,”

 One of Mr. Strickler’s eyebrows quirked up “And you don’t wish to do this?”

 “Yes-- I mean no! I mean, I do want to, but I just...” Jim trailed off helplessly.

 “You know this girl and her friends, correct?”

 “We’ve...met,”

 “And does the idea of spending time with them sound fun?”

 Jim thought about it for a few seconds before swallowing hard and nodding.

 Mr. Strickler gave a wry smile and picked up a pen from his desk, “I think I might know what your problem is,”

 “You do?” even Jim wasn’t sure what his problem was.

 “It sounds to me that you would like very much to go on this outing, but you’re intimidated by the idea of putting yourself out there with new people and terrified that something will go wrong,”

 “That...sounds right,” Jim mumbled, he was embarrassed about having it laid out like that, but at the same time he was glad Strickler was able to explain what Jim couldn’t find the words for.

 “So...I should tell her yes?”

 Mr. Strickler chuckled “I think you should do whatever feels best for you. Keep in mind, while there is a certain amount of risk involved with making a change and opening yourself to new people, as a great man once said, t  here can be no life without change, and to be afraid of what is different or unfamiliar is to be afraid of life  ,”

 Jim’s blood turned to ice in his veins. He struggled to keep his face blank.

 If Mr. Strickler noticed Jim’s sudden change in mood he didn’t comment on it, merely capped the pen and slipped it into his pocket “And if I may be so bold, I think you could benefit greatly from a deviation in your routine,”

 Mr. Strickler didn’t know, he couldn’t have meant the words that way, but hearing them cut Jim to the bone.

 There can be no life without change.

 A life trapped in his house, a life of slogging through the same old routine just because he didn’t know what else to do. Powerless to alter his inevitable future.

 Jim balled his fingers into fists so the trembling wouldn’t be too obvious. His life wasn’t all doom and gloom, but Jim had gotten to the point where even the best things about his life, Mom and Toby, could barely keep him going.

 He wanted more.

 To be able to live free from secrecy and fear, to spend just one night of his life outside his house with other people. To be able to have an actual future.

 But Jim wasn’t going to get that. No matter how badly he wanted it.

 He took a deep breath to steady himself, Mr. Strickler’s words buzzing around in his skull.

 A deviation from the routine.

 Claire’s face flashed in his mind.

 Jim wasn’t going to get what he wanted, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have more.

 Mr. Strickler was right, there was a risk, a huge risk. But the potential for something different, something new, was worth it. Even if it wouldn’t change anything long term.

 “That makes sense,” Jim hefted his bag over his shoulder “I think I know what I need to do now,” he started hurrying towards the door, if he was quick he could meet up with Claire and give her an answer before next period “Thanks Mr. Strickler,”

 Mr. Strickler waved back as Jim walked away “I’m glad I could be of some help,”

#tales of arcadia #Trollhunters #a secret's worth #fanfic #jim lake jr #steve palchuk #toby domzalski #claire nuñez #walter strickler #rmvwrites

[wanderingaunt]

Invisalign-ing Patience - The Parallels between Orthodontics & Starting a Business

"My business is going to take off when I'm done with my Invisalign."  -- Me, end of 2020

Life has an interesting way of teaching us lessons in patience.

When I was a pre-teen I entered into the world of orthodontics. I had a habit of sucking my pointer finger when I was a child, which pushed my teeth outward. At age 12, I got braces. As if being a middle schooler wasn’t awkward enough, getting braces topped it off. Luckily, I wasn’t alone in this stage of life. Many of my classmates and my sister, Lisa had braces alongside me. We at least got to make it a little more fun by changing the colors of our bands to match school colors and create an expression of our own. I had the added element of having a bridge in the roof of my mouth with a metal key that I would turn daily to expand my bite. It goes without saying, but I do not miss those days!

I was a structured kid who followed the rules out of expectation and approval. So naturally, when I got my braces off 2 years later, I made sure to wear my retainer every night. I wanted to be a “good” patient and seek praise from my doctor. For some reason though, when I got to college, I decided that my retainer wasn’t needed anymore. I had been wearing it for 5 years, so surely my teeth were in place by now…

Things shift in life when you let go of the structure holding it in place.

As you guessed, slowly over time, my teeth began to shift. From the outside, there wasn’t a noticeable difference. My teeth were slanted slightly, but it wasn’t anything to fuss about. What did cause a fuss, though, was my bite. I noticed that I was biting the inside of my cheek frequently when eating especially crunchy foods like apples and carrots. It was not enjoyable.

When I was in my late 20’s, I decided to go to the orthodontist to get a consultation about my bite. The first orthodontist I went to said that I would need to get braces again. Orthodontics has come a long way and made many advancements in the 16 years since I had had braces. Invisalign was a newer option that allowed you to move more freely through life without the constraint of monthly checkups or the pain experienced from wire braces. I was excited about this possibility. The orthodontist I visited said I was not a good candidate for Invisalign though, because of my bite. She said it would be a long journey (at least 2 years) and would cost at least $5,000 and not be an effective form of treatment. That was enough for me to say, “No Thank You” and go back on my merry way.

Money is often what stops us from taking action.

In this case, it wasn’t just the money that was stopping me. It was the thought of having to have braces for 2 years. I had plans. I was going to switch jobs, travel the world, and follow my dreams. And that couldn’t be done with braces.

Oh, how clever our minds can be to keep us safe from taking action.

I moved on and went back to living my patterned life. During that gap, my life really began to shake me up. I went through a long period of depression followed by taking inspired action and investing in myself through therapy, transformational programs, and retreats. 2017 was the year that things really began to shift. I dubbed 2017 as My Year of Action. I reached a point of exhaustion by repeating the same patterns, and not taking action towards what I said I wanted. I committed to showing up for myself consistently in ways I hadn’t done prior. It was the year I went on my first international retreat in Guatemala and realized that I was playing it safe in life. I knew after that retreat that it was time for me to quit my job of over a decade and follow my dream of traveling the world.

When I returned home from Guatemala, I raised the bar in showing up for myself inside of my Word of the Year, Action. I went to the dentist and told her that my bite was bothering me. She referred me to an orthodontist whom she highly recommended (Dr. Ortega at White Rock Orthodontics). I immediately booked a consultation. During the consultation, I learned that I was in fact a candidate for Invisalign. Dr. Ortega was confident that I could continue to live my spontaneous lifestyle as a traveler while correcting my bite. He said it would be a long journey and take at least 2 to 2 1/2 years. After all, teeth, especially molars, don’t move overnight.

My fear was screaming at me that this was too long and wouldn’t work, but my intuition knew it was time.

I thought back to my initial orthodontist consult 3-4 years prior. Had I committed to the process then, I would’ve been finished now. I didn’t want to wait another 4 years and be back in this same place with no action. So, on August 22, 2017, I committed to getting Invisalign and going down the path to fixing my bite. I had no idea that by making this commitment I’d also be opening myself up to the longest and most beautiful lesson in patience. After the initial “getting used to having attachments on my teeth”, Invisalign became a part of my lifestyle. I learned to embrace my smile and work my life around appointments. In the past, I would’ve been self-conscious about showing my smile with attachments on my teeth, but I learned that most didn’t even notice it. It became a part of me. I modeled in at least a dozen photoshoots and continued to travel all over the world while stopping back in Dallas every 4 to 5 months to get new trays.

When I hit the 2.5-year mark, I was a little disheartened to learn that my molars still needed more time to move. I received a whole new box of trays starting back to tray 1 of 24. At the rate of changing trays every two weeks, I was looking at least another year. I had made it this far, what was another year? That was a statement I never would’ve embraced prior to this journey. I used to think a month was a long time and that a year was an eternity… oh how naive I was.

It was around this time that I had also started my business and was navigating the world of being my own boss and learning to charge for my services. I thought committing to a multi-year journey with my teeth was challenging. Starting my own business, however, there was no preparing me for this ride.

It’s one thing to enter into something knowing how long it will take; it’s another to enter into something blindly believing it’s going to take off right away.

There are a lot of romantic success stories that entrepreneurs share that suck the newbies in:

I just had my first $10,000 month!

I went from broke to rich just by putting myself out there.

I have more clients than I know what to do with.

I made $50,000 doing one event.

While these are legit scenarios among many service-based entrepreneurs, it is not a common narrative. What’s missing from these stories is the work behind the scenes and more importantly, the internal work that others rarely see. So, while I celebrate business owners who reach these milestones (and wish to achieve levels like this myself), the way the stories are often shared can be a bit disheartening to those of us who are still building and refining our message and offerings.

If I was to share any wisdom with wannabe or newbie entrepreneurs, it would be to have patience. Take things one step at a time. One day at a time. Trust in the process and learn from those who have been where you want to go.

It was frustrating to hear from my orthodontist that I’d have to wear my Invisalign for another year to a year and a half. I wanted to quit and held back tears in the chair when I learned again that it would be yet another 6 months. But, I was so grateful that he was honest with me and asked me to trust in the process and trust that it would be worth it.

This journey with Invisalign has had so many parallels to running a business.

Timing is not something that’s always so easily predictable. I learned during this process to let go of linear time and trust in divine timing. There was a deep knowing that the process with Invisalign was here to teach me patience in all areas of my life. It taught me to trust in divine timing with the launch of new offerings and services within my business.

Don’t compare your timing or results to others’ journeys. I’ve had several friends get Invisalign as adults and the process only took them 6 to 9 months. When I first considered going down the path of orthodontics, I thought it would only take 9 months because that’s what I had heard from so many. But that wasn’t the case for me. My situation was completely different than theirs and would take more time. There was no sense in comparing my timing to theirs because it was unique to me just as theirs was unique to them. The same is with business. These days they say it takes 18-24 months for the average business to make a profit. While some can get there quicker, don’t discount all of the navigating, refining, and planning that takes place in the beginning phases.

Release attachment to the how and when. When I learned that the process would be longer than 2.5 years with my teeth, I learned to let go of expectations and surrender to the process. I couldn’t force my teeth to move. They had to go at their own pace, just as I’ve had to learn to go at my own pace in business. In 2020, I was set to lead my first international retreat in Spain. This was a big and exciting step for me! And then the pandemic hit. My travels, this retreat, business, and offerings were put on hold. I had to learn to pivot, try on new offerings, and release control.

Just when you think you’re done, another path appears. I attribute much of my journey to climbing a mountain. The peak can look so close to you as you’re moving towards it. But just when you think you’ve reached the top, another hill or path appears. It’s not as close as it looked. So then you’re faced with a choice, do you keep going? Or, do you turn around and call it done? I could’ve told my orthodontist that I was done when I learned I had another 12 to 18 months to go. But I knew from experience that the journey to the top is worth it. It’s worth it to keep going. The lessons learned along the way are priceless.

Consistency is key. My teeth would not have moved had I not worn my trays daily and overnight. While I didn’t always follow the recommended wear of 22 hours per day, I never went a day or night without wearing my trays. It was not easy to commit to at first, but after weeks of establishing a routine, I got used to the consistency and began to see results with each new tray and each check-up. I’ve dabbled so much in my business trying on different services and offerings. I’ve not been the best at sending regular newsletters or following what the “experts” say you’re supposed to do to run a successful business. But I have continuously shown up through the good and the hard. I learned that My Why was the foundation (or the trays like with my Invisalign) for everything that I do. And no matter what is happening in my life, as long as I’m holding to My Why, I will continue to show up and be seen.

When you learn to fully surrender and embrace the process, things begin to shift.

At the end of 2020, I learned that I had another 7 to 8 months left with my Invisalign. And I knew there was no point in fighting it. After all, I had already made it this far. So I surrendered and accepted where I was. I remember declaring to my sister, “My business is going to take off when I'm done with my Invisalign.” While I was half-joking, I had this sense that things would shift when I finally learned to let go of control, trust, and be patient.

I wanted to give up many times with my Invisalign. Just like I’ve wanted to give up many times with my business. I’ve gone through the common cycle that many entrepreneurs face of wanting to quit and find a regular job. Yet, something keeps me on this path. There’s a deep knowing within that I’m meant to keep climbing. I’ve come a long way on this journey. The pandemic showed me that I am capable of slowing down and being in one place for a time. It taught me that it’s okay to try on different avenues and embrace all of the many skills I have. It’s taught me to ask for support and open up to receiving. I’ve had to ask many friends and my sister and her husband to support me several times in the last year with money for bills and, at times, food. It has not been easy to ask, but it has been so humbling to receive.

It’s been my greatest lesson in patience. When I finally surrendered to the process, I let go of attachment to the end. At the beginning of June 2021, I went in for what I thought was a normal checkup for my Invisalign to learn that it was actually the day to have my attachments removed and be fitted for a permanent retainer.

Letting go of attachment allowed me to reach the finish line.

And guess what? My declaration has started to show evidence of the payoff from being patient. Last year, I applied for a grant with the Small Business Association (SBA) for Covid relief, and I was denied. I applied for unemployment and again, I was denied. I didn’t earn enough to be considered.

Last week, I went in for a 6-week follow-up for my permanent retainer. It was my final appointment for this leg of the journey. Everyone cheered me on and congratulated me as I walked out of the building. And at that moment, I knew. Things finally were shifting.

I reapplied several weeks ago for an EIDL Covid Relief grant through the SBA. Monday, I woke up to find a generous sum of money in my account.

While I did receive a large portion of money overnight, the work that went into being patient, trusting, and surrendering to the process did not happen overnight.

I wasn’t ready to get orthodontics when I first went in for a consultation. I was meant to go on this 4-year journey at this time in my life. And the same is with the grant money. Had I gotten the money last year when I first applied, I would’ve used it to escape rather than face my pain.

Patience is a beautiful teacher and one of the most challenging lessons we will ever learn.

Where in your life are you afraid to start out of fear of how long the process will take?

Where in your life are you wanting to speed up the process to be done rather than soak in the journey?

Where in your life are you wanting to quit because it’s gotten too hard or you simply can’t wait any longer?

Where in your life are you comparing your timing and your journey to others’ stories rather than embracing your pace?

I invite you to reflect on these questions and see what arises. And if you find yourself desiring support, reach out to me. I created a new customized program to support you with where you are now that is designed to fit how you best operate. Send me a message or schedule a curiosity call to learn more.

#invisalign #patience #patient #life lessons #trust #surrender #business #entrepreneur #solopreneur

[ecotone99]

[SF] Melody of Storms

I leaned back against the brick wall of the school, watching my breath float above me. "What was that?" came from a bubbly voice beside me. I turned to see Lacey, a blonde-haired blue-eyed girl with braces and pigtails, standing in a green skirt and a white button up top. I laughed, "I get it that you found your taste but do you have to embrace it so much?"

Lacey looked down at what she was wearing and shrugged, "I think I look great today." A boy with the same features as Lacey came gliding out of the door beside her, "Sure do Lace." He kept walking to the red sports car parked in the school parking lot, "Don't forget cheer practice later." Lacey's cheeks blushed. I laughed. Lacey's eyes shot back to me. Her face contorted as she tried to form a grimace. Her face started to turn red with a hint of purple around her eyes as she strained. "I mean we can stand here all day while you try to do something you know you can't do," I said, "or we can go pick up Lunde' like we promised."

Lacey let out a sigh as she stared at the ground and caught her breath, "At least I have a taste Katelyn. I'm the younger twin and I still caught mine before you did. So do you want to talk about things people can't do?" She reached out to a small bush. A vine sprouted and twist around her wrist before a full rose sprouted at the end and rested in her palm. She pinched the rose bud loose and held it up to my face. "Because it seems we have a non-gen in the family." I clenched my fists as she reached down and grabbed my arm. She forced open my palm and put the rose in. Every muscle in my forearm cramped as I fought the urge to send her back to the Orthodontist. The first pedal of the rose touched my skin and immediately began to turn black. "Woops, well we know you're not a pop enthusiast" she said. I gripped the rose, feeling it turn to ash, and threw it behind me. The car door unlocked as I neared it. I hopped in and gripped the steering wheel as I heard bouncy footsteps open the passenger door.

I wasn't the biggest fan of Timberlake High but if there was one place I liked less than Timberlake it was Mumford Prep. I knew we were getting close when the sun that beamed down on my blue sedan changed to the pitter patter of a light rain. The ice cream parlors were replaced with rows and rows of coffee shops and the ever present "guy with a guitar singing on street corner in Birkenstocks". "Terrible weather here," said Lacey. "I shook my head, "It's always terrible. It's how they like it."

"Sad really. I prefer the sunshine, but hey at least there's no traffic." Lacey wasn't wrong. No one drove to Mumford Prep. They either rode bikes or walked. I'm surprised they even went to school if you could actually call 8 hours of the philosophy of Poe school.

The sedan pulled up to a brick building. The inside was dimly lit with warm lighting. Lacey looked confused. "Are they closed?" she asked. I stared at the window, hoping to see someone I recognized. "Kate?" asked Lacey. "Yeah?" I asked still trying to peer past her into the window. Her arm gripped mine. I looked at her face that was frozen straight ahead of the car. The rain stopped as a red aura surrounded us. I turned to see three figures ambling towards the school. We ducked down and climbed out of the car as they neared the doors of brick building.

My eyes peered over my trunk and I watched as a pink mohawk with a ripped purple tanktop walked to the doors and started kicking. "Knock knock hipster boy!" he shouted. I could see figures beginning to move around the windows. A few heads were poking up and down from the couches inside. "We just wanna play little hipster wipsters. Come on give us some playthings!" the pink mohawk continued to shout. I could hear sobbing and I looked over to see Lacey holding the back of her head and crying. "It's death metal" she said. "We're gonna die. they're gonna rip us ap . . . " I gripped her mouth.

"Shut up," I said in a whispering yell. "It's not death metal. It's punk. Now shut up before they hear us."

"I want to see mom. Please Kate let's just go home," she said sobbing uncontrollably.

"Stop it Lace. I need you. We can't go home now. If we try to leave they'll see us," I said still whispering. Something hit the ground behind me. I held my breath. My heart beat into my throat and I turned to meet what was standing behind me. When I made it fully around, no one was there. I scrunched my brow and peered under the car. Three pairs of feet were still in front of the door, trying to break it down. Something else hit the ground. I saw a rock move as I faced the noise. I looked from behind the car. A small figure with long black hair was crouched under a table outside with similarly dressed classmates. It was Marcos. "Where's Lunde?" I mouthed.

A ripping noise vibrated around us. The punks were calling their aura. The kids under the table huddled together and covered their heads. I looked back at Lacey. "Call yours," I whispered. "I, I can't," she said as she stared into nothing. A tear fell down her cheek.

"Lacey if you don't call your aura their going to burn everyone in that school alive."

"I just got my gen. I'm not strong enough," she cried.

I clenched my fists and walked from behind the car. "Hey. You got a problem punk?" I said as I pushed girl with blue dreads from behind. A fist careened the air beside me and I ducked to miss it. I brought my foot up into her chest and kicked off. Her body flew back and hit the pink mohawk still trying to call his aura. "The hell Mavis." he said as he turned to see me inching my way off the ground. "Looky here. We got us someone to play with," he said. The three punks circled around me and began moving their hands in a ball in front of them. A light began to ignite between their hands. The girl with blue dreads barked and jumped at me. I jumped back and raised my fists. The trio laughed. "Why don't you raise your gen girly," said blue dreads. "Come on, give us a show," said pink mohawk.

A whipping noise slapped the ground and shook us all to our feet. Lunde' landed in front of me. I looked up at him as he raised his hands. A whisp wrapped around her wrists and he twirled around before striking the ground again with another whipping sound. The punk jumped to their feet and let loose three streams of red flames. A white cloud engulfed him as he held out his hands to meet the attack. He backed into me and jumped up to brace him as he was inching backwards. I could feel the heat beginning to surround us when a vine grabbed the girl with blue dreads. I heard her scream as vines wrapped around her, eventually muffling and then silencing her scream. The pink mohawk turned to Lacey who raised more vines to attack him. "Lace," I shouted. The vines came down toward the punk as he jumped and threw his hands up. His arms burst into flames as he hit the ground. A wave of fire grew and came straight at Lacey. I ran to her as Lunde' whipped him to his knees. Lacey was pushed against a fence. Her fingers were black. Her tan skin had turned pale white and her eyes were black.

I held her body in my arms and rubbed her cheek. She wasn't. I knew she wasn't. My blood was cold. My heart begged to stop beating. My eyes burned as tears poured out of them. "Lacey," I said shaking her. "Lacey wake up," I said in a serious tone. I thought back to the times she would play this stupid trick on me when we were younger. This time she didn't move. A feeling, an aura I'd always felt like another mind suddenly was gone. A constant blanket I'd always had faded and then vanished. Her hair turned from blonde to white as I continued to hold her. I heard the whipping stop as I watched Lunde' fly through a building behind him, followed by the pink mohawk. Footsteps slowly walked to me, accompanied by laughter. "Pour little pop girl. I can feel her aura in me now. I can hear her screams," said the girl with blue dreads. "Join her," she said as I heard a flame ignite. The heat surrounded me and pain gripped every part of me. I hunched over to protect Lacey's body as my lungs burned. I gasped for any cool air. My eyes felt like they were cooking in my face. I watched blisters emerge on my skin and then blacken. A seering pain was all over me and inside me. My muscles popped and crackled and the only thing I had left was to scream.

***

The pink mohawk was right on my heels as I tried to get to my feet. He emerged through the wall he'd thrown me through and bounded after me. I threw my arm out and felt the familiar tingle in my finger tips as I saw the whip appear. I tightened my grip and let it fly out to his neck. His palms caught fire and grabbed the whip. The flame started toward me as he yanked me closer to him. A flame started in his eyes and I could feel the heat as I reluctantly came closer. I tried to throw out another whip but the heat was too much. My skin started to blister as I heard what sounded like thunder. The flames stopped as everything around us began to float. Suddenly, we were both in the air. He reached out to grab me when his arms were pinned to his side. I could see his muscles tightening as he struggled to move. I dropped from the air. Through the hole I could see the other girl with him in the same position as him. Lacey's lifeless body was in front of her. Something touched my arm and I could have sworn I saw finger indentations in my skin. The blisters disappeared. Another clap of thunder and the three punks began to scream. Their screams were so loud they began to cough up blood. Still screaming through the blood in their throats, their bodies began to turn black. Their hair turned from pink and blue to pale white. Their mouths shut, blood still seeping out. Their blackened bodies convulsed and peered upward. In unison they spoke, "From Hell, to Hell." Each time they said it they got louder. Their voices sounded amplified. Now it sounded like they were everywhere. Their voices still getting louder as they shouted it over and over. A distant noise like someone hitting a bass guitar accompanied the screams.

I jumped to my feet and grabbed my friends under the table. I looked up to see a flame high in the air. Clouds swirled above it in blue and orange. Darkness flashed and sent everything into a deep black abyss before releasing an overwhelming silence. I noticed my friends and I were on the ground when I heard a drop of water hit the ground around me. The darkness was gone and the rain started up again. The three punks were gone. Lacey and Kate were gone too. As I walked my friends inside I looked back where Lacey's body was and watched as a single black rose sprouted from the concrete.

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*This was originally a writing prompt but I got carried away with the story and didn't want to shorten it so I'm posting it here. Hope you enjoy.

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