Midnight… Dream

Call me weird, but I love a good Zoom book club. I left video off (and am always on mute) until I finished my late lunch, and there were no fewer than three dogs and perhaps one cat present at one point or another. Gretchen and Knox can sometimes tolerate each other, but it didn’t matter, because… Zoom. And while I’d NEVER go to a “live” book club immediately post-workout, I did just that with Zoom. My hair was pulled back, I probably stink, but I got to see four of my favorites and “meet” a couple of friends of a friend, the discussion flowed well, and thanks to the click of the host’s finger, no one stayed too long.

(If you’re interested, let me know and I’ll add you to the group on Facebook.)

Our first read was The Midnight Library by Matt Haig. I highly recommend it. It’s a quick read, but I wouldn’t call it light. It caused us all to think, and was great for discussions on regrets, choices and more. Out of respect to the times we live in, I will offer the warning the book did not and share that suicide is a key part of the book. Book two hasn’t been announced yet.

My second book of the year wasn’t fluffy either, but it was a pleasant read. It Began with a Dream by Dr. Glady B. West is an autobiography about a local (ish) hidden figure. I learned of the book from my aunt, whose life intersected with Dr. West’s because their children attended the same schools. It’s sobering to realize that when my mother (and her sister, and Dr. West) was born, society was segregated. Women didn’t necessarily pursue higher education (but those three did), and pay – opportunities for advancement and more – was far from equal when the women did work in their chosen fields. I am blessed that I was raised in a home where racial and gender equality were the norm, and I marvel at how ignorant I was of the world around me. I stand in awe of women like Dr. West who broke those barriers with grace and poise, but there is still so much work to do. And let’s be honest; I admire anyone who works in STEM, because those are not my strengths. I did okay in math and science, but there’s more than a little irony in those fire science classes on my college transcripts.

I’m currently reading a very fluffy cozy called Peach Pies and Alibis by Ellery Adams, with the most darling Jack Russell named Charleston Chew on the cover. Sometimes I need a change of pace, and a little paperback that fits in my handbag.

What are you reading? Do you mix it up or do you tend to stick with one genre?

For the record, I’m not much on peach pies, or any fruit pie. I do love pies, but my favorites are pumpkin, pecan, chocolate chess… Full disclosure? I just don’t eat a lot of fruit. I can manage a bit of chopped apple in my oatmeal or some sliced banana on my peanut butter sandwich, but I go for veggies over fruit just about every time.

Where do you stand on pies and fruit? I’d love some ideas on how to sneak more fruit into my daily diet.

Drawing lines

There’s a pleasant little challenge on my Facebook page now that spilled over onto my Instagram account and now… here we are. Not all of my pals are on all of the same social media feeds I am, and I want all of the feedback, all of the thoughts on this one.

I started this book about a year ago. I can’t remember who recommended it; ironically, I think I saw it on a social media feed. I follow an assorted mix of folks on Facebook, Instagram and once in a while, even Twitter, so many thank to whomever planted this seed.

And here’s the discussion, in typical Chan, stream of consciousness and almost run-on sentences…

I perceive myself as confident, capable and sometimes, yes… a badass. I am not senile or ignorant; I know I was a pioneer as a female firefighter in the 20th century. I realize that not many 50 year old women can squat, bench and/or dealift more than their bodyweight. While I work for and with some phenomenal, smart, talented women, I do still work in a male-dominated industry, and I hold my own. So imagine my surprise when one of those female powerhouses cut me off yesterday and scolded me, “Don’t sell yourself short.”

So I ask you friends, where is the line between being candid, self-aware, etc. and selling one’s self short?

Or as I asked on Instagram, where is the line between humble and selling yourself short? Heck, I don’t even claim to be humble. I play to my strengths and will go so far as to give myself credit for surrounding myself with people – especially in my girl tribe – who compliment and/or challenge my weaknesses and “areas with room for growth and development.” Being humble is a virtue I can only work at growing into, but now I’m curious… do I sell myself short?

The unvarnished truth is … I know I do. I want to pull (deadlift, if you prefer) 300 pounds. It isn’t unreasonable, given my build, my knack for picking up heavy things, or even when compared to my PRs (personal records) in other lifts, but for reasons I won’t even try to explain, the deadlift is my humbling lift. It’s THE ONE where my head gets in the way and I can’t find my way around it. Yeah, those of you who know about my back are making the same, safe, fair enough excuses I make, but the truth is, I am strong enough, fit enough, to move 300 pounds the roughly 30″ it takes to pull the bar off the floor and lock out with my short arms and legs straight, from the sumo stance.

But we aren’t here to debate whether I should or could deadlift 300 pounds. (I WILL, and you’ll all hear all about it when I do!) The point is, if I dismiss my potential there, I am selling myself short. And like any good fan of true-false tests, if it’s not 100% true, it’s false. So therefore, I do sell myself short and I need to stop!

So talk to me about selling ourselves short. Where are the lines and what do we do about them?