Celebrate One Million

The closet way for me to describe the feeling of a fully celebrated woman is
an experience of being all grown up and learning to hula hoop. That’s
right…I was 37 years old and never really “got” this very special feeling of
accomplishment. The sense of “I want to do that came back one day when I
shopping with my girls and we ended up in the toy section of WalMart. They
said, “Mom! Let’s get a hula-hoop!” They were very inexpensive, so I bought
three, one for each of them. After watching their little hips swirl round and
round, and appreciating their laughter and noticing the achievement on their
faces, I decided to try…my self-defeating voice from childhood said, “you don’t
know how, never learned, what makes you think you can do this now– as a full grown
woman?” Well, the results were exactly as I predicted. I could get the thing going
once or twice, but I did not, once again get the movement that kept the hula hoop
on my hips. I gave the hoop back – saving myself from humiliation, laughter from
my children and further feelings of disgust and failure. I guess this exciting journey
of mastering the hula hoop would once again be left for OTHERS!

Eventually I ended up buying hula hoops for the bar and grill I owned during
that time. I figured, if I could not beat em’, might as well join em. One
quiet late Saturday afternoon before the evening crowd came in… I found
myself stumbling across a hula hoop– this one was a water filled pink one,
laying on floor near the stage. I stepped into it and just stood still for
a moment. There were only a few “old timers” sitting on the bar stools.
Determined– I said to myself, this time - I am going to get it.

I firmly planted my feet on the floor about shoulder width apart and started
circling my pelvis around (yes, just like Elvis!): left, back, right,
forward. I kept doing this over and over, closing my eyes– oblivious to who
might have been watching. I started feeling the success of my long awaited
journey of celebrating the skills of hula hooping! The music was on - I
kept going, moving – gyrating to the upbeat tempo of the Zydeco music on the
sound system. Round and round, even though I did not have the hula-hoop on
my hips, I felt a surge of energy – the sweet taste of success, this hula
hooping thing WAS within my grasp.

Long story short - I figured it out. Not only did I begin to hula with my
girls from that point on, but I entertained my patrons, I created an hour
glass figure, and am now gearing up to teach the exciting, sexy, healthy,
invigorating sport of HOOPING. Check out this great company out of
California called Hoopnotica Corp! Even Beyoncé is a hooper!

Hey - moral of the story…get all grown up, feel celebrated while picking
up a hula hoop if you have not for a while. Anyone can do it and it is so
much fun!

If there were ever a time that I have felt that my cup runneth over…NOW would be the time. The dreams, tears, laughter, the love, fear, expression of gratitude, and authenticity are spilling into my life from so many places and so many sources.

Photo: Zig Ziglar and Sheryl Lynn - October 2006

Zig Ziglar told a story when I saw him this past year, about a water pump. You know those red ones you see at places like Yellow Stone National Park when you are camping? You pump and pump and pump and pump and you wait for the water to come – you are so thirsty, you know the water is coming, yet you get tired. You believe that just a little more pumping will bring you your desired result. Yummy cool water. So you pump some more. You want to give up, maybe let your brother or parent do some of the work – yet you know deep in your heart that you want to feel the sweet success of having the water run onto out of the nozzle and onto the ground. You keep trying with Mother Teresa effort knowing the fabulous outcome of quenching your thirst will be worth the sweat and muscle fatigue. This vivid picture of pumping a hand pump is very much like my life. I feel like I have pumped and pushed and pulled and use every last drop of energy I had to open the reservoir of love from my heart, allowing it to pour into the hearts of women. In the past, it seemed the harder I tried to create beauty, the uglier it got, the roads I went down were all dead ends. I started over, failed more and landed in a pile of poo more than I care to remember. Three years later after starting Women Celebrations though, the pumping is producing a beautiful stream, a flow of perfection that seems unending – like the feel of Cinderella and the Prince dancing at the Ball – everything in perfect alignment. Now, as I give to the heart of others, doing what I can to “eek” out a dream, a voice, a tear, an ounce of real laughter, a level of self- trust – this celebrated feeling becomes like the water, now SPILLING out onto others. The pumping is now easier and with so much less effort than before. I am feeling, seeing and tasting the sweetness of the work, of the sweat, of the tears I cried – of the times I felt so alone, crazy, silly, broke and beat up. My energy that goes into this dream of one million people living a life of daily celebration is constant…it is giving, it is endless, it is rewarding and fun–and more than anything – it is finally being received. This flow of this “water” is spreading to the other plants on the ground-watering the beautiful flower in its path- sprouting the blossoms of dreams, of hope, of kindness, of judge free environments, of softness, of love – in women’s lives, men’s lives and most importantly it is touching the children of the world. The children are feeling the love – not from families laden from verbal abuse, but from celebrated moms, dads and adults in general.So raise your glass ladies and gentlemen, and drink in the fruits of our labor. Yum Yum