Sonia Marsh - Gutsy Living

Thanksgiving in Southern California

November 22, 2012 by Sonia Marsh 6 Comments

100_0430 — Sonia in the jacuzzi on November 21st 2012

I am grateful to all the people who make my life special.

To my family, to all the “My Gutsy Story” writers who have become my friends, to writers and readers and all the people I meet who make life interesting.

Thanks to all of you and have a wonderful Thanksgiving Day.

The weather is beautiful in southern California, and sometimes it’s difficult to feel the Christmas Season approaching.

I look forward to my trip to Paris and London in December, where I know I shall get some winter weather.

Love and Happiness to all of you.

Sonia

“My Gutsy Story” by Susan Weidener

November 19, 2012 by Sonia Marsh 27 Comments

Taking a Risk On Love

As a reporter most of my working life, I interviewed countless people. I became quite good at standing back, observing and then writing about the pain and heartbreak, the triumphs and tragedies, the challenges and defeats of other people.

A big daily newspaper like The Philadelphia Inquirer provided a window into life’s diversity and no two days were alike. By its very nature, journalism requires you stay objective, put your prejudices aside, stand back and observe. In some ways, my personal life reflected my professional one. Since my husband’s death, I had stood back, observed my own life with a certain detachment.

My stories at the newspaper ran the gamut. The young couple whose four-year-old son was dying of Tay Sachs, but refused to give up hope and channeled their energies into fundraising to help find a cure. A married couple who wanted to keep a flock of bantam chickens on their property, but was ordered by the local zoning board to remove the birds. I remember the headline: “We Refuse to Chicken Out.” A group of citizens who asked if I would write about their grassroots movement to preserve from development a Revolutionary War site where 53 American soldiers were buried. . . . a story that spanned five years and ended up garnering the attention of Congress.

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But as life would have it, events and circumstances collided. I always believe and still do – life can change in a heartbeat. First, there was the loss of my career at the newspaper; then finding myself alone, a woman whose children were grown and gone; and finally the death of my mother.

I stood at the precipice of change wondering . . . where to go from here? The lack of direction terrified and excited me. I thought to myself: Now is your time, Susan. You can do what you want. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone . . . no one that is, but John.

He had always been there . . . my touchstone to honor and chivalry. I remembered when we first met under white dogwood trees; the way he looked at me with deepset dark eyes almost as if he knew me better than I knew myself. Although he had been gone over 13 years, he had never really left my side. Now that I was off the treadmill of work and raising children, I found myself drawn into reliving our love, our 16-year marriage, his heartbreaking and courageous battle with cancer that lasted – almost unbelievably – seven long years through the birth of our second son and ending just after our son’s 7^th birthday.

Susan Weidener Wedding — John and I toast each other on our wedding day.

I began searching for answers. Why hadn’t I been a better wife to John at the end? Why had I screamed at him as he was dying, “I wish I’d never met you!” I believe he knew before I did that losing him was almost more than I could bear. He never asked for an apology. It was myself I needed to forgive. So I began writing.

This was harder than any story I had ever covered or reported. I felt my throat choke up, the tears well in my eyes. Why was I putting myself through this? Some days I would get up from the desk, take long walks . . . but even then I couldn’t escape our story, his and mine. How best to express the emotions I needed to convey, which scene, which memory, which conversation?

I began to realize that if what I wrote helped other families cope with chronic illness and learn to forgive themselves for not living up to their own personal set of standards, then I was writing the most important story of my life. My days as a journalist had served me well. I knew how to craft a well-paced story, yet also keep some distance and find the compelling narrative. For me, it was about the loss of youth and dreams, the naïve expectation of a happily-ever-after, and then blaming my husband, not the cancer for my shattered life.

After Again in a Heartbeat was finished, I felt a weight lift. It had been the depth of my love for him that made me act the way I had. If I had loved him any less, perhaps, I could have been kinder.

Again in a Heartbeat, a memoir of love, loss and dating again and its sequel, Morning at Wellington Square, about my life as a writer and single woman on a quest to find new meaning, have opened doors to teaching writing workshops, editing books, and helping others find their “voice” through the Women’s Writing Circle. This is a group I started here in suburban Philadelphia three years ago to bring together a community of writers and offer a support system, as well as a creative lifeline in a world that is often isolating.

In many ways, I feel energized by this new “career” . . . pursuing my passion, which is writing and teaching and encouraging others to tell their stories. None of it would have happened if I had not made the decision to take a risk . . . to dive off that cliff and hope – beyond any measure of logic or reason – that somehow if I looked hard into my own heart I might not only survive, but come up renewed

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Susan G. Weidener’s Bio: An author, editor and former journalist, Susan leads writing workshops and started the Women’s Writing Circle, a support and critique group for writers in suburban Philadelphia. Susan has an undergraduate degree in literature from American University in Washington, DC and a master’s degree in education from the University of Pennsylvania. She is particularly interested in how women can find their voice through writing and storytelling. For more information about the Women’s Writing Circle and how to order Susan’s memoirs, go www.susanweidener.com. You can also connect with Susan on Twitter@ Sweideheart, Facebook
Facebook: , and her Link to my Amazon Author’s page

Sonia Marsh Says: What a story of courage and re-inventing yourself after the loss of the man you loved, and the start of a new life. I am sure your memoir can help us feel “energized” and motivated to follow our passion, just as you did.

NEWS ABOUT DECEMBER

I shall be in Paris at a book signing on December 13th, 5-7 pm, at WH Smith (scroll down on their website) as well as visiting family and friends in Paris and London. (ANY SUGGESTIONS? WHAT ARE YOU INTERESTED IN? LET ME KNOW IN YOUR COMMENTS BELOW OR E-MAIL ME AT Sonia@soniamarsh.com)

Since we are all busy during the holidays, I shall post stories and photos from Europe during the month of December, and hope you take some time to write and submit your “My Gutsy Story.” Be the first one on January 7th 2013. Thank you.

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We have started our November “My Gutsy Story” series with Jerry Waxler and Elaine Masters.

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story” you’d like to share?

NOW is the time to submit your “My Gutsy Story” and get published in our Anthology. Please contact sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

Winner of October “My Gutsy Story”

November 16, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

I am so sorry I forgot to announce the wonderful winner of the “My Gutsy Story” for October yesterday. Blame it on me being too busy, and I know there is no excuse. As far as I’m concerned, you’re all winners and I am grateful to you for submitting your “My Gutsy Story.”

Fortunately the polls closed yesterday at midnight, so the votes are accurate.

Congratulations to Patricia McKinzie-Lechault. You won 1st place.

My Gutsy Story 1st place — Patricia McKinzie-Lechault

Sonia Marsh Says: I loved your “Gutsy” attitude and what you said to your “Dad, I’m only 23. How many chances will I have to play? To live in a new country, meet new people?”

Don Darkes takes 2nd Place.

Sonia Marsh Says: You certainly have a “Gutsy” life with many adventures, and I love the way you overcame one major fear with another.

Doreen Cox, takes 3rd Place. Dody is a wonderful social media supporter.

Sonia Marsh Says: You told your story with such honesty and it made me realize how sad it is when we love someone and they grow old and can no longer take care of themselves.

4th Place goes to my husband Duke Marsh

Sonia Marsh Says: I am so proud of you for pursuing your dream of making movies.

Last but not least is Kim Brower in 5th place.

Sonia Marsh Says: In sharing a typical spring-time farm dance, you brought us into the heart of farm culture; a place that is good and strong, something you needed while questioning the city life you left behind.

We have started our November “My Gutsy Story” series with Jerry Waxler and Elaine Masters.

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story” you’d like to share?

NOW is the time to submit your “My Gutsy Story” and get published in our Anthology. Please contact sonia@soniamarsh.com for details.

You can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here

I Can’t Believe I Have John McAfee As a Facebook Friend

November 15, 2012 by Sonia Marsh 5 Comments

Yes, you heard me right. John McAfee, the anti-virus pioneer who is being sought for questioning about a murder case, lives on the island of Ambergris Caye, where my family lived for one year.

Thanks to a mutual contact on the island, I became “friends” with him on Facebook.

It’s not like I ever wrote to him on FB, however, today with US News covering the scandal with John McAfee, it no longer surprises me to read about crime, gossip, guns, drugs and dog killings on the island where we lived. Even the Telegraph has an appropriate title: John McAfee: sex, drugs and anti-virus software.

John McAfee moved to Ambergris Caye, a popular island in Belize, after we left in 2005. We did not know him personally, however we did know the murder victim, Gregory Faull. He lived a few houses north of ours on Ambergris Caye. Greg was a contractor from Florida who was building his retirement home on the island. We invited him for a beer in our house, and nick-named Greg the “lobster guy.” I shall never forget when he told us he caught thirty lobster in about an hour or so, while my son Steve and his dad caught only one puny little lobster in two hours. We were all so envious of his lobster-catching skills.

Greg was a fun guy who spent half his time building houses in Florida, and then the rest building his own home on Ambergris Caye. He invited us inside his house to show off the huge rooms he built. (Read page 193 of Freeways to Flip-Flops, and you’ll find him. I changed his name to Mitch.)

Life on the island of Ambergris Caye was both scary and exciting. For such a small island, there was always something going on, and for those of you who have read my memoir: Freeways to Flip-Flops: A Family’s Year of Gutsy Living on a Tropical Island, you might recall certain chapters where I expressed fear once in a while about living on Ambergris Caye.

Here is one excerpt about a drug boat from Columbia:

I strolled along the beach to get away from the bustle of golf carts, taxis and bikes on Front Street. The next Island Ferry was scheduled for 11 a.m., so I collapsed on the wooden step in the shade, thinking about how much our lives had changed in just two months. Curiosity led me to the end of the boat dock, where some locals had gathered. They were pointing at something in the distance, and when I saw what they were looking at, my heart skipped a beat. A boat had capsized and six men holding long poles were attempting to flip it over. “Oh, my God, Duke must have lost control of the Island Rider,” I thought, straining my eyes to see if a Cubs baseball cap was floating in the water.

“Mario, what happened to the boat?” I asked. Mario was one of the Island Ferry’s boat captains.

“It’s a drug boat from Columbia,” he said.

“Does this happen often?” I asked.

“Yes, lots of drug smuggling from Colombia to Mexico.” After years of living in my safe Orange County neighborhood, I suddenly felt vulnerable. When I reached home, I hurried upstairs to tell Duke about the capsized boat.

Another excerpt about my fear of being alone with my two younger sons on Ambergris Caye when Duke left for California.

My ears were on high alert for any unusual sounds, so we watched a comedy I knew would make Josh laugh and me forget my fear for a while. “Can I sleep in Steve’s bed?” Josh asked, snuggling closer to me than usual on the couch.

“Of course,” I replied. At least that way, I wouldn’t be all alone downstairs. Alec would sleep upstairs with Cookie.

I hid a solid mahogany rolling pin underneath Duke’s pillow and tucked a machete behind some books on the shelf next to my bed. I regretted not following Lucy’s advice – she was a 70-year-old woman from Michigan who lived alone in town – “Keep a bullhorn next to your bed. It’ll scare the heck out of any thief or rapist.”

So this time Belize is making national news due to a scandal involving a famous American businessman: John McAfee.

What a small world.

“My Gutsy Story” by Elaine Masters

November 12, 2012 by Sonia Marsh 10 Comments

Answering the Call

It was winter in San Rafael. I was in front of my glowing computer, checking email. Tucked into a newsletter was an invitation to see the pyramids of Teotihuacan. Pyramids? In Mexico? I clicked on the link.

What opened up changed my life forever. An image filled my screen with stone snakes and two large pyramids set in a wide valley. It took my breath away. Excitedly I read the description of a ‘power journey’ filled with the ancient Nagual teachings and of four days exploring the Avenue of the Dead with a teacher, Victoria Allen. She was one of don Miguel Ruiz’, author of The Four Agreements, elder students was taking small groups to the ruins of the ancient city of “Teo.”

My heart wanted to go and suddenly longed for transformation, for spiritual connection and for the ancient stone site. It wasn’t logical, but from that moment I was determined to go.

I had been living in a disaster of a marriage, emotionally abused and sexually abandoned as the chief caregiver of my 5 year old son while my husband worked a series of jobs that often took him away from home for weeks and into the arms of other women. It wasn’t the marriage contract I’d signed on to. I felt trapped, was financially dependent and overly protective of my only child. How could I ever leave the country, my family for even a few days or find the money? I was such a victim!

Yet, within three months I flew into Mexico City to join a small group of seekers. My parents had surprisingly sold some property and split the proceeds between my siblings and me. A few weeks after I saw the Teo flier, they sent the check and made me promise to put the funds in a separate account in my name only. That was their only caveat and I held to the agreement. Without realizing it, I had begun my Toltec journey from that moment and was practicing one of the Four Agreements – Be impeccable with your word. What was also surprising was my husband’s agreeing to take care of my son while I was away. Soon I was packing.

Victoria had sent detailed instructions on how to prepare for the trip. I was advised to put my personal life into order, to even make a will. It scared me at first but it was the first step to opening up to healing. I was intrigued and quietly prepared.

Walking alone into the labyrinth of Mexico’s largest airport took a little more gumption but soon I was with a new, chattering family. Our small group of 21 men and women climbed into vans for the forty minute ride to Teo. After rumbling along in traffic and through the countryside, we entered a narrow road and someone shouted, there’s the Pyramid! The vision touched me with amazement that I had come so far and my heart opened with gratitude.

We pulled up to the colorful Villa Archaeologico and settled into our sweet, comfortable rooms which ringed a large swimming pool and patio. It was our home base. Each morning outside the lobby, we gathered for final instructions before beginning our single-file, silent procession to the ancient site.

I thrilled to look straight up the Avenue of the Dead as we left, all the way up the steps of the Pyramid of the Moon at the far end. Each morning we walked through the entry gates, past other tourists and uniformed students, to visit the ancient classrooms and work on whatever was no longer serving us. I had no expectations and was no stranger to rituals, having grown up in Catholic schools. It was nourishing to participate in small actions that held large significance which, I soon discovered, revealed old wounds. Many of our small group were hurting. We shared so much and with Victoria’s gentle guidance, let go, opened up more and let go again and again.

On our third day we walked up the Avenue of the Dead in determined silence. All our preparations and practices led to climbing the Pyramids. I walked silently past the artisans and wove through the crowds, scarcely hearing the small whistles blown by the vendors and the many different languages being spoken.

There was a shift and words won’t describe adequately how I stepped into a new awareness. It was as if I were everything and nothing. The silence within me roared. I was fully myself – the same, comforting, familiar me, and simultaneously part of everything. Victoria came to sit next to me on the steps of the Pyramid to check in with how I was doing. I only tilted my head and dared to look deeply in her eyes with a slight smile. She gently touched me and simply said, “Good”, before she moved to check in on the others.

It was all good but the profound shift slowly faded. What didn’t was the sense that I had returned to myself. I returned too to my home in Northern California and shocked my husband by how happy and clear I was. We didn’t stay together long after that first trip to Teo and I could never have initiated my divorce were it not for my first power journey to Teo.

Life isn’t always pleasant but that can be necessary. I came through all the changes just fine and my son flourished after the separation. I’ve been on other power journeys to Teo since and my last, nearly ten years later, was with my new life partner. We walked the Avenue of the Dead in silence with our hands clasped. I live in gratitude for that profound place, for don Miguel’s teachings, Victoria and her partner, Doug’s, gentle guidance and for walking the difficult places that have led me to a life far richer and fuller than I could have dreamt.

Victoria and Doug Allen’s Website: https://www.raiseyourstate.com

Elaine Masters Bio:

Elaine J. Masters is a travel writer, speaker, scuba diver, yoga teacher and the award-winning author of Drivetime Yoga and Flytime Yoga.

She blogs at www.tripwellness.com and hosts a top ten podcast on the Women’s Radio Network and hosts several travel meetups in San Diego. Twitter: @tripwellness

Sonia Marsh Says: You prove something that I am a firm believer of: getting away from the familiar, getting out of your comfort zone to an unfamiliar environment helps you grow and strengthens you as a person. I am so happy you got the strength and courage to leave your “unhappy” marriage and find a new life. By the way, I love your Travel MeetUp group. It looks lively and very active. I wish you were in OC, not San Diego, as I would like to be a part of your group.

Please leave your comments for Elaine Masters below. She will be over to respond. Thanks.

Also, don’t forget to vote for your favorite October “My Gutsy Story.” You have until November 14th to vote, and the winner will be announced on November 15th. You can read all of them and vote here.