Inspirational Archives - Page 35 of 45 - Sonia Marsh

“My Gutsy Story” by Larry Jacobson

February 6, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

How I Chose Passion Over Fear and Sailed the World

How many people do you know who have actually made their dream come true—their dream based on passion and desire, not practicality or career advancement. It could be a dream of anything from travel to weight loss, from a new career to a new relationship. It starts with, “I’ve always wanted to . . .” and often ends with, “It’s just not practical,” or “Maybe someday.” At what point do we say, “Someday is here!”?

Reaching a new goal often means letting go of something, but would you give up a secure business career for your passion? What if you had spent the last 20 years building a highly visible company with a stellar reputation, loyal clients, and a steady flow of business, and you were surrounded by friends and family who admired your achievements and your perfect career? Could you walk away from all that to pursue a dream?

I did—or rather, I sailed away. I traded it all for the opportunity to make my lifelong dream of sailing around the world come true. And though some called me crazy at the time, I’m happy with my choice of seeing the world during six years of adventure on the high seas. Though I now drive a Honda rather than an Audi, fly coach rather than first-class, and live in an apartment rather than a house, I feel as though I’m the richest man in the world, because I’ve lived my dream.

Perhaps you’re a high-tech executive who’s a master pastry chef at home, and you’ve always wanted to open a bakery. Would you be willing to bake late into the night, spend your mornings serving fresh croissants, and pour your earnings back into the business? Or perhaps you’re a sales manager who takes writing classes at night because you’ve always wanted to write a great novel while living in a country village in Italy. There goes your chance to be V.P. of sales, as you spend your evenings developing characters rather than staying late at the office. In the end, you get to decide what you’re willing to sacrifice. Andre Gide said, “Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.”

Fear of what a change might bring is one of the main reasons many people never let go, and so miss the opportunity to become something different and transform their lives. It’s a double-edged sword, facing the anxiety of walking away from the old while embracing moving into fear of the new. Even if your dream is just to get back into shape, the fear of failing may prevent you from trying. Take to heart the words of Gen. George Patton: “There is a time to take counsel of your fears, and there is a time to never listen to any fear.” Let your passion guide you. Don’t let the weight of the past or fear of the unknown get in the way of your vision. And realize that it’s not only fear and apprehension that prevent us from doing great things. Often, the good in our lives is what gets in the way. Many of us have a home, partner, family, career, and income—and who would watch the cat if I traveled to Europe for a year? Why risk the comforts and joys of our lives for a chance at a dream? Because, as Dale Carnegie said, “Take a chance! All life is a chance. The person who goes farthest is generally the one who is willing to do and dare.”

You have to be the one who makes your dreams come true, and nothing happens without action. Make your decisions, make your plan, and then take the first step. If you make no choice, you’re only fooling yourself. No decision is a decision.

I’ll admit that my own decision-making process was a scary mixture of excitement and cold feet. I reached the choice to leave my secure life when there was no more information to help me decide one way or the other. The fanfare and cheering crowds never materialized as in my dream. There was no line to cross that made it official. It was simply time to go. But I remembered that, as Emerson correctly said, “Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.”

Was I brave, blind, or foolish? No, I was driven by passion. Yes, I was choosing an extreme change of course in my life, but I was drawn to it with a pull I couldn’t resist. And though I had been sailing nearly all my life, I wasn’t prepared for the magnitude of the challenges and fear that would come with sailing around the world. Still, passion trumped fear. It can for you too.

I untied my dock lines and followed my heart. What I hope you glean from my experience is that it’s possible to follow your passion and make your dream come true. Don’t wait for someday. Address your fears, make your plan, and take the first step. Untie your lines—whatever they may be—and go!

(This story was originally published in Forbes, with written permission by the author)

***

Larry Jacobson, a California native, is a motivational speaker, executive coach, and sales trainer. His circumnavigation is documented in his book The Boy Behind the Gate: How His Dream of Sailing Around the World Became a Six-Year Odyssey of Adventure, Fear, Discovery, and Love. For a free download of the first chapter, go to http://larryjacobsonauthor.com and sign up for his mailing list. Larry welcomes new friends, colleagues, and feedback at: larry@larryjacobsonauthor.com.

I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Larry in March 2011 at the Newport Beach, California, library when his book The Boy Behind the Gate, first came out. You can see a short video and our interview Want to quit your job and travel around the world?

Larry Jacobson is the real deal. He is the perfect example of someone who follows his passion and puts fear to the side. I’ve heard him speak and watched the reaction of those listening to him. He truly inspires and motivates people to follow their dreams. Please post your questions and comments below for Larry. he’ll be over to respond.

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story”?

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

***

Please vote for your favorite January “My Gutsy Story” You can read all five here. The winner will be announced on Thursday, February 16th.

Please share the “My Gutsy Story” series with others on Twitter using the #MyGutsyStory. Thank you.

My Gutsy Story by Kenneth Weene

January 30, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

“Being a Hero”

One thing I have to admit – I’m a coward. So what the heck was I doing with my fingernails digging into the tiny crevices of the slate roof? What the devil was I doing crawling along the peak of a roof five stories above a parking lot that was rapidly filling with police, fire fighters, and gawkers?

No, I wasn’t drunk or high. And I certainly wasn’t suicidal. I wasn’t, but the young woman teetering on the far edge of the roof was. She had somehow made it out of the psych ward, slipped through a window onto the roof of the chapel – that huge vaulted wing of the hospital — and had walked the crown of that building to the far edge, where she now stood screaming at the world that she was going to jump.

Even as I edged towards her, part of me was hoping she’d go off. Then I could wait patiently until I could be rescued by those experts who now impotently stared up at her. There was no way I wanted to keep moving forward – no way this story could end well. Still I moved ahead, inches by inches, slate capping stone by slate capping stone.

What propelled me. Not a personal concern. I didn’t know her name. I didn’t want to know her name. I didn’t work in the psych ward, not really. I was just a summer intern in the community mental health unit. My job description – do little, stay out of the way, and on occasion make a fool of myself. I also carried papers around. That was why I had been at the same floor as the psych ward, why I had been passing that window as she tightrope walked her way along that roofline.

For her it must have seemed so simple. Bare feet on either side of the peek, walking as easily as if she were in a meadow; perhaps in her head she was. Her robe was flying about in the breeze. She paused for a moment, took it off, and dropped it on the slates. It slid down the roof, gathering speed as it went.

I watched her move gracefully towards the end of that roof, and I slipped out the window after her, dropped to my knees, and then to my belly. I’m not particularly good with heights. I get vertigo when I look down any distance. I’m fine when I look out, but looking straight down – perhaps it’s my astigmatism. I clung to the roof and inched forward.

In my head there was a constant refrain: Talk her off the roof. Get her back to safety.

She reached the end of her journey and looked over the edge. It had seemed only seconds, but the watchers and rescuers had already starting assembling. She began a colloquy with them. She wanted to die. She had nothing to live for. Nobody cared.

That, finally, was my opening. “I care,” I yelled. “If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be out on this damn roof trying to get to you.”

Another inch forward.

She looked back, saw me, and asked who I was.

“Your friend,” I answered hoping that she would accept my word at face value. A summer psychology intern would hardly instill trust and acceptance; a friend might.

“You could get hurt,” she called to me.

“So could you.” There was a pause. “Let’s get the hell off this roof.”

“I want to die.”

“Why?”

“Because nobody cares.”

“I care,” I tried again, “or I wouldn’t be out here.”

“Oh.” She came towards me.

“I lost my robe,” she said as she came closer.

“We’ll get you a new one.”

I inched backward. Suddenly there were strong hands grabbing my ankles and pulling me back through the window. The young woman was right behind me. They helped her through the window, gently oh so gently. Then, once she was through, they wrestled her to the ground, stuck a needle into her, strapped her into a straightjacket, and hauled he back to the ward.

“What the hell were you thinking of?” my supervisor asked.

“It just seemed that I had to do—“

“Don’t ever do it again. Do you realize how lucky you are?”

“Believe me I do. I was terrified I’d fall the whole time.”

“Who’s talking about falling? If she had jumped while you were out there talking to her, we could have been sued. In which case, young man, you would have been better off if you had fallen.”

The next day in the cafeteria one of the aides came over to me. “That was great what you did yesterday.”

Maybe, maybe not.

***

Kenneth Weene Bio

Life itches and torments Kenneth Weene like pesky flies. Annoyed, he picks up a pile of paper to slap at the buzzing and often whacks himself on the head. Each whack is another story. At least having half-blinded himself, he has learned to not wave the pencil

A New Englander by upbringing and inclination, Kenneth Weene is a teacher, psychologist and pastoral counselor by education. He is a writer by passion.

Ken’s short stories and poetry have appeared in numerous publications including Sol Spirits, Palo Verde Pages, Vox Poetica Clutching at Straws, The Word Place, Legendary, Sex and Murder Magazine, The New Flesh Magazine, The Santa Fe Literary Review, Daily Flashes of Erotica Quarterly, Bewildering Stories, A Word With You Press, Mirror Dance, The Aurorean, and Empirical.

Ken’s novels, Widow’s Walk and Memoirs From the Asylum, and Ken’s newest novel, Tales From the Dew Drop Inne, which should be out January, 2012, are published by All Things That Matter Press.

To learn more about Ken’s writing visit: http://www.authorkenweene.com

***

Thanks Kenneth for being a hero and for saving this woman’s life. I know readers will praise you for what you did. I am curious if this woman ever spoke to you about your heroic deed later on. Please check out Kenneth’s new book and book trailer on his website.

***

Our second POLL starts February 2nd-February 15th to VOTE for your favorite JANUARY “My Gutsy Story” of the month.

***

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

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information, and our 9 Sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here.

Please leave your comments and questions for Kenneth Weene below, and click below to share his story with others.

“My Gutsy Story” by Pamela Sisman Bitterman

January 23, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

My checklist is getting checked off. I have the basic necessities covered. There are other details I could obsess over, more material I could learn, extra gear I could bring. But I imagine that I’ll be able to make do with what I have or grab what I need on the fly. I feel pretty good to go! My faculties are sharpening into adventure mode. And my old gumption that has been busting a gut to get loose for a quarter century is now ever present, even at three a.m. when I lurch wide awake from my warm bed in a cold sweat and blurt out, “What the hell am I thinking?”

It’s not that I’m having serious personal reservations. It is simply that moms tend to worry that their families will implode without them. As it happens, I find that I am not in the least fearful for myself. In fact, I discover that I’m as game as ever to take this next leap of faith. The “yee-hah!” exhilaration of climbing out to life’s edge has never entirely died out in me. It’s merely been lying dormant beneath a meticulously constructed, implied housewife persona, a twenty-five year stint of nurturing-mother prioritizing for which I have absolutely no regrets. Everything has turned with the seasons, as they should. And a bygone time has finally come back around, although to what purpose under heaven remains to be seen.

That being said, this go-for-it attitude of mine does pose a psychological incongruity that I do have some measure of difficulty coming to terms with. I am experiencing a powerful, altruistic desire to “go help starving children, be a blessing in the world, touch just one life,” with a hefty side of, “travel, have an adventure, get out there, prove you can still do it,” purely selfish thrill-craving. Like a cup of warm milk with a Wild Turkey chaser. When I ask my husband, who has actual skills and a medical background, if he is planning to accompany me, he replies, “Pami, I have a job I love, responsibilities, the mortgage and college tuitions. I don’t need to go. I don’t even want to go. This is your dream. And yes, I am afraid for you to go. But I know you. And I am more afraid for you not to go.”

No, I don’t want to go without this wise man, but I want to know that I can. I don’t need to fly halfway around the globe to be benevolent but I do need to get back out into the big world. I have no concrete conception of what I am moving toward but the lure of the unknown pulls me like a familiar drug. There is nothing in my life to escape from and yet the passive act of staying put evokes despairing thoughts of, “Oh, if this is all I’m going to do, then just shoot me now!” Some things never change. This is still the same me, just me a little older, me a little slower, me jetting off to Kenya . . . with Ian.

Ian is our son’s pal, the child of a good friend, a physician who personally knows the doctors who are running the program that I am going to join in Kenya. Ian knew about the project from his father and was committed to going even before I was. He is a lot like the “me” of 24 years old. And I cannot fault him for that.

However, I have to say that having one of my children’s schoolmates in on my personal journey of self-reinvention wasn’t in my blueprint. I fear Ian will disrupt my somewhat anal and scrupulously economical organization. I am packing the bare minimum, just what I think I can get by with; for example, one handful of laundry tabs, one small two- in-one bottle of concentrated shampoo/conditioner, one bar of soap, one package of antibacterial wipes separated into several neat little plastic snack bags, and one box of energy bars. One! I envision Ian bumming a tab for his rank clothes, a dab for his cruddy hair, some suds for his grimy bod, a swipe for his germy mitts, a bite for his grumbly tummy. And will I deny him, scold him for being unprepared, admonish him for being selfish, berate him for blowing my cover and outing me as “the mom person” I am endeavoring to leave behind? Never. I am resigned and actually curious to discover how it will all play out between us. When his folks implore me to please look after Ian for them, I tell them that we will look after each other, figuring that I can at least keep myself off the liability hook to that extent.

Truth be told, Ian and I do look after each other. We both prove to be ready, savvy, daring, caring, and gung-ho—intrinsically different, independent explorers embarking on a journey to discover our separate ways—together.

And what grander venue could we dream up in which to have at it than extreme Africa. The Dark Continent looms outrageous and I find I am not permitted not to be outraged. The media blitz has played on this brilliantly. Hollywood is literally and figuratively all over the map with the Dark Continent and they aim to pluck my purse strings. From Oprah to George Clooney, Angelina Jolie to Madonna, HBO to CNN, Bill Gates to U2’s Bono. There are brochures advertising the dozens of religious charitable organizations with their hands out, along with a smattering of non-ecumenical groups. Then there are the governmental and non-governmental organizations, the grants, fellowships, and philanthropists. Africa’s plight is discussed on the floor of Congress and at the annual G-8 summit.

I can’t help but gag on the grisly need, while feeling sick from the force-fed horror. Consequently, I gamely truck right on over to a little godforsaken corner of Kenya. Enter my story—timely, unique, honest, important, shocking, and first-person true.

Pamela Sisman Bitterman Book Muzungu Cover_7 — "Muzungu"

***

Pamela Bitterman’s first book, Sailing To the Far Horizon, her own story of life, loss, and survival at sea is graphically biographical. It encapsulates the author as product of the first thirty years of her life. Muzungu, the story of the author’s unlikely escapades throughout Kenya, picks up on that journey a couple decades later.

She has also written a children’s book titled When This Is Over, I Will Go To School, And I Will Learn To Read; A Story of Hope and Friendship for One Young Kenyan Orphan. Finally, the author has penned a homily entitled, Child, You Are Miracle. Links to these, plus trailers to her three published books can be found on her website: www.pamelasismanbitterman.com

Bitterman’s writing has emerged amidst her travels, adventures, and finally her marriage and children, her persona as wife and mother – the heart of her; the author as her best self. Her future remains to be seen, and to be told.

***

Sonia Says:

Pamela, thank you for sharing your Gutsy attitude and for being so honest. I enjoyed what you said, ” I am experiencing a powerful, altruistic desire to “go help starving children, be a blessing in the world, touch just one life,” with a hefty side of, “travel, have an adventure, get out there, prove you can still do it,” purely selfish thrill-craving.

I would like to do something like this myself and the fact that your husband said, “This is your dream. And yes, I am afraid for you to go. But I know you. And I am more afraid for you not to go.”

Please leave your comments and questions for Pamela below. She will be over to answer.

***

Do you have your own “My Gutsy Story” to share?

Please view the guidelines and the prizes from our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page.

“My Gutsy Story” by Sara Padilla

January 16, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

When my father called that day, I was preparing to head home and clicking through my email, making sure I’d responded to everyone I needed to that day. It was quitting time, and it felt like Friday. Most of my coworkers had gone home or to the pub down the street.

When I glanced at the tiny blinking light and the caller ID read Falls Church, I knew it was bad news. My father never called me at work.

I could never in a million years have imagined it would be that bad.

My younger sister, the middle child of three girls, was a doer, a thinker and a contributor. If you didn’t know her well, and you happened to read her resume, you might be a little jealous. What kind of person manages to run ten miles, read Don Quixote, take a Portuguese lesson, tutor immigrant high school students, and bake homemade chocolate chip cookies to include in a care package for a friend all in the same day?

Not that she bragged about it. Not a bit. My sister was just one of though naturally inspired people who felt compelled to spend every minute productively. Except, perhaps, when she was sleeping. She was not a morning person and she could definitely exemplify crankiness at its best when her rest was interrupted.

So when my father told me that she had been killed, I changed physiologically, spiritually and emotionally. Even professionally. At the beginning, I did not know exactly how I was changed. But as the years unfolded and my reflection upon her life and my own grew deeper, I found myself gravitating toward playing a more significant role.

Sara Padilla's sister liz — Sara's sister Liz

Professionally, I didn’t long for change, though I did quit my job less than eight weeks after she died, and move 3,000 miles away to a city that I had never stepped foot in before. My husband and I had frequently discussed moving out west, and a job opportunity (his, not mine) gave us the chance. It turned out that leaving Washington, DC was a bit of a drag for my career, but six years later, I’m finding my way.

Spiritually, I was angry, angrier, and even angrier in those first years after Liz’s accident. I prayed often and reluctantly, and today remain unconvinced of a higher power that is capable of intervening in the physical world (so what’s the point of prayer?). But my belief in something bigger than all of us does give me some comfort, and I found my tolerance for people involved in organized religion actually increased after losing my sister. It’s not for me, but I can respect those people that actually practice their faith. One of my mother’s best friends comes to mind. A progressive, intelligent and talented woman, she is also a practicing Catholic. Once upon a time, I confess I would have found the two versions of this woman to be incompatible. Today, as I observe her composure, energy and commitment to friends and family, while also going through her own personal challenges, I find I can accept those who take comfort and strength in ways other than my own.

Physiologically, I became depressed and anxious. I panicked when unable to reach my loved ones by phone and sometimes behaved irrationally. I drank more. A lot more. I ran a lot, intermittently, which was actually a bonus – when I was running daily I ate better, drank less and ran several personal record times. Four years after losing my sister, I was finally diagnosed with moderate post traumatic stress disorder, and unenthusiastically began a course of anti-anxiety medication. The change was profound. I no longer rely on any meds, but for a year or so, they really helped. And so I find myself among those millions of Americans who take mood-altering drugs, most definitely over-prescribed and not entirely understood. I wish I hadn’t had to resort to this, but the anxiety, insomnia, nightmares and overwhelming sadness wasn’t going away.

The theme of some grief workers is that “time heals all wounds”.

In my case, this wasn’t, and isn’t, true.

Emotionally, and I’ve touched on this, sadness poured into the depth of my soul and seemed determined to stay. The sadness was, and sometimes still is, heavy and dark. But the moments of joy, lightness and breath, so fleeting during those first few years, have become more and more frequent. The direction in which I am moving is now one I actually want to move in. I am no longer being swept away with the madding crowd of grief, anger, and despair. I look to my sister as an example of how to live my days. I do not long to do as she did, or attempt to do as much as possible in each of my 24-hour allotments. But I wake each morning (even when I’m exhausted) with a feeling of purpose and contentment, and more so on each passing day.

Yes, some days are harder than others. I know, too, that change isn’t always a forward-motion concept, and I’m still riding the roller coaster of grief. But I know I’m definitely on board for the journey.

*****

Sara Padilla is a freelance writer, book reviewer, and blogger for Sunshine and Salad (http://sunshineandsalad.com/). Sara has over fourteen years of experience working in public health and program management in the United States and internationally. She holds a master’s degree in Public Health from Tulane University and speaks Spanish fluently. Sara resides in Portland, Oregon with her family.

*****

Sara, your story is so moving, and it shows how grief resulted in a major change within you. “I look to my sister as an example of how to live my days.” I am inspired by how you can help others, who have experienced a loss in their life, find a way to become positive in their outlook towards the future. I truly thank you for sharing your story with us. Please leave your comments for Sara, and she will be over to respond.

*****

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story”?

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

*****

Please share the “My Gutsy Story” series with others on Twitter using the #MyGutsyStory. Thank you.

“My Gutsy Story” by Lois Joy Hofmann

January 2, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

Don’t be afraid to go out where the adventure begins!

Lois Joy Hofmann

“Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing at all.” Helen Keller

During the 1980s while living in Minnesota, I decided that I wanted to plan my life rather than being thrown about by external events. I had always wanted to retire in San Diego. Why not move there now, avoid the harsh Minnesota winters, and find my soul mate? My business partner lived in Arizona, so he agreed with the move. I began to set up clients in San Diego.

When you set out your goals, be prepared for them to be fulfilled in ways that will surprise you! There are no accidents! You set the mission and objectives, with God’s help, and the strategy will take care of itself as events unfold to propel you toward those goals.

One Sunday, during one of my trips to San Diego, I hired a sailboat captain to take a client out for a day. During a horrible accident, I was thrown against the lifelines; my liver almost split in two. I was rushed into surgery. An internal medicine specialist, on call that night, saved my life. He warned me, however, that my recovery would take two years. He advised me to resign my clients and quit flying all over the country. “You’ll never be in that venture capital business again. Maybe an outdoor job, like being a mail carrier, will give you the fresh air and exercise you’ll need!”

I sold my Minnesota home, resigned my clients there, and moved to San Diego to recover. I hiked the trails and worked out in the gym, chocking up four hours per day of aerobic exercise. That cut my estimated recovery time in half. Meanwhile, I researched the burgeoning biotechnology market. During that process, I met Dr. Günter Hofmann, a physicist and inventor. The rest is history.

I joined Günter’s company, which had been operating out of three townhouses and two garages. I changed the direction of the company from making and selling laboratory research instruments to developing drug and gene delivery systems. Then we raised many rounds of venture capital, finally taking the company public. All went well; the company grew to over one hundred employees and another hundred associates around the world. I had fulfilled one of my life goals, that of becoming the CEO of a publicly held company. We had J & J as a pharmaceutical partner. Clinical trials were looking good. Patients were being helped.

Then another setback occurred. Günter and I were ousted from the very company he had founded in a traumatic coup. We were devastated. Of course, we contacted our attorneys. Our choice, in the end, was to fight or flee. Many advised us to duke it out.

Our decision was radical and unexpected. We decided to sail around the world! Thus began an eight-year odyssey to assuage our anger and hurt, and to fulfill a far different dream. It would be a better life—one in which we would be truly independent and self-sufficient, answering to no one. We would be back in control of our own destiny. We were open to change. We were ready for new beginnings.

We learned many lessons during those eight years of sailing. Our Maiden Voyage, the topic of my first book, was all about control. We were forced by the wind and weather to change schedules and to delay crew. Even though Pacific Bliss was a new boat, equipment broke down. And we faced a Force 10 storm off the pirate coast of Colombia. Force 12 is a hurricane. A 43-foot catamaran cannot survive that! After that voyage, we realized that there is a certain peace in being out of control. It reminds one of how much there is to lose, and how fast one can lose it.

Lois on board Pacific Bliss in the Marquesas Islands

I am a different person now. I have a certain calmness underneath my skin that I didn’t have before. My life has all been worth it. I have no regrets.

Maybe you think it’s too late to pursue your passion, to stretch yourself to that place where adventure begins. Life went on. Age just crept up on you. And somewhere along the way, you lost the plot. Well, I have news for you. Günter retired at 65, the year we ordered our Catana catamaran to be built. I was 58. Günter turned 70 on the Passage from Bali to Singapore, with two years of our circumnavigation yet to come! You’re never too old to live your dream! I encourage you to cast off those dock lines, to pursue your passion, and to live your dream, whatever that may be. To do that, you will need to overcome your fear of the unknown.

*****

Lois Joy Hofmann

Lois Joy Hofmann retired after a 35-year entrepreneurial and management career. Then she completed her circumnavigation with her husband, Gunter. Intrepid adventurers, the couple now embarks on more conventional travel with the goal of understanding countries and cultures that they omitted the first time around. When not traveling, Lois resides in San Diego, California, where she enjoys writing, speaking and photography. She launched her first book in the nautical trilogy “In Search of Adventure and Moments of Bliss: Maiden Voyage” in March, 2011. The book won first place in the San Diego Book Awards, travel category. Lois is currently writing the second book in the series, to be called “Sailing the South Pacific.” Lois also serves on the Board of Directors of UPLIFT a faith-based organization working to improve the well being and quality of life of San Diego’s inner city population. Learn more about Lois on her website and subscribe to her blogs.

*****

Thank you Lois for sharing your amazing story of courage and being Gutsy in life, regardless of age, as you pointed out. Please leave your questions and comments for Lois in the comments section below, and she will be over to respond. Also visit her website for more photos and to learn more about her book.

*****

Do you have a “My Gutsy Story”?

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (NEW VIDEO) Submission guidelines here.

*****