Let’s Talk – Suzanne Whitfield Vince

A Letter from John Lennon

Suzanne Vince — Tue, 28 Jul 2015 18:00:41 +0000

Many years ago I received a letter from John Lennon. Okay, I didn’t really. But Danny Collins did. In the film, Danny Collins (which is based on a true story), Al Pacino is a hard-living, aging rocker still making the circuit and playing the same cheesy songs he’d written thirty years before to a crowd of…mature women.

Forty years after it was written, Danny receives this letter from John Lennon (who read an interview with Chime magazine where Danny is clearly uncomfortable hearing the interviewer say that he will one day be rich and famous, and have more women than he’ll know what to do with):

Dear Danny Collins,

Yoko and I read your interview. Being rich and famous doesn’t change the way you think. It doesn’t corrupt your art; only you can do that. So what do you think about that Danny Collins? Stay true to your music. Stay true to yourself. The rest will follow. My phone number is below. Call me. We can discuss this. We can help.

Love, John.

After reading the letter, Danny asks himself: Imagine what would’ve happened if I’d gotten that letter when it I was supposed to?

The movie got me thinking about what I might’ve done with my life if I had received my own letter from John Lennon. Before I became an accountant. The letter would’ve said something like this:

Dear Suzanne,

Remember all those nights as a girl, when you were crowded around the television with your sisters and pretending to watch Gilligan’s Island, Bewitched, or I Dream of Jeannie but were Imagining some fantastic story or another in your head instead? Rather than going to secretarial school, or nursing school, or studying for some other career that society expects of young women today, set those characters who roam around in your head and scream at you to write their stories free. Study creative writing and start telling their stories. One day you’re going to be an amazing story teller. I just know it. My phone number is below. Call me. We can discuss this. We can help.

Love,

John

Now, don’t get me wrong. Being an accountant, if not a particularly creative profession, is a noble one. It has afforded me many opportunities and has provided me a comfortable living. I have no regrets. There is nothing about my life I would change right now.

But in the next life, John, could you send the letter a little sooner?

And this got me to thinking about what John Lennon might say to my daughter, who will be heading off to college next year. I think it would say something like this?

Dear Montana,

You are a beautiful spirit and the world is your oyster, as they say. It’s hard when you’re young to know what you want to do with the rest of your life. My best advice is to Imagine all the possibilities. Try everything (at least) once and then, when you figure out what rocks your world, find a way to make a living at it. Don’t worry about the money. Trust me, it will come when you’re doing something that comes from your soul.

PS Do you even know who I am?

Love,

John

What about you? What would John Lennon have said to you?

Imagine the possibilities.

You Know You Need a Vacation When . . .

Suzanne Vince — Tue, 02 Jul 2013 11:00:38 +0000

Photo by Montana Vince

Recently I shared that, due to a pre-cancerous condition coupled with strong family history of breast cancer, I will soon be undergoing a preventive mastectomy. The adventure started with a call from my doctor on April 30^th.

From that point on, as you can imagine, I thought of little else. By the end of May, not only was my mind consumed with thoughts about my condition and the upcoming surgery, but I began to see signs and symbols everywhere. For example:

Mammogram or Blue Sky? Photo by Suzanne Vince

This picture was taken in early May at a writing retreat I attended in Lake Tahoe, California. I glanced upward and saw not a gorgeous blue sky but a mammogram picture.

Image courtesy of Google Images

At the beginning of June, on an early morning run, I began seeing water marks on the pavement from sprinklers that somehow seemed to form the perfect outline of a breast.

That’s when I knew it was time for vacation.

Fortuitously enough, I had one scheduled in a matter of days. Timing, they say, is everything.

On June 14^th we arrived on the beautiful island of Kauai and promptly checked into our beachfront cottage at the Pacific Missile Range Facility (PMRF).

Image Courtesy of Google Images

The PMRF is the world’s largest instrumented, multi-dimensional testing and training missile range (where they do lots of secret squirrel stuff) AND they happen to have 25 fabulous ocean-front cottages on a pristine, nearly isolated beach. Take a look:

PMRF Cabin (view from living room). Photo by Suzanne Vince

Beach at PMRF (Barking Sands). Photo by Suzanne Vince

And did I mention it’s only $85 per night? But, you must be active or retired military (any branch).

Shortly after we arrived, I took a long walk by myself. When I turned around I noticed that, while some of my footprints remained in the sand, most had been washed away by the tide.

Photo by Suzanne Vince

It was like a parable for life. One day we will cease to exist. All we ever have is this moment. And how we spend this moment—this very moment—will determine whether we will leave a footprint behind or be forgotten forever. And I was reminded that every moment (especially our struggles) are put before us to learn and grow from.

That night we went to the free, walk-in Outdoor Movie Theater to watch the Croods. Very cute movie with a good message: Come out of the dark (fear) and live in the light (be open to new experiences and put fear in its proper perspective). That, and pets make everyone’s lives better.

Walk-in Outdoor Movie Theater at PMRF.

The Croods, playing at the PMRF Outdoor Movie Theater. Photo by Will Vince

The next morning, after sipping coffee on our private beach and watching sand crabs build their castles under the sand:

Underground Sandcrab Castle. Photo by Suzanne Vince

I took another walk and found my first Hawaiian seashell:

Hawaiian Seashell. Photo by Suzanne Vince

Spent the afternoon reading the fabulous debut novel from Laura Spinella.

Beautiful Disaster, by Author Laura Spinella. Photo by Suzanne Vince

To have your debut novel published by Pocket Books (Penguin) says something about the quality of the book and I was NOT disappointed. Her prose just sings on the page and I literally (channeling my inner Rachel Zoe) had to lock myself in the bathroom to read the last 20 pages because I was crying that hard (but in a good way).

And spent the evening dining at the seaside restaurant, Shenanigans, on base.

Sunset at Shenanigans on PMRF (Barking Sands). Photo by Suzanne Vince

Some of the other highlights of the trip included:

Two hikes. The first was in the beautiful Waimea Canyon:

Waimea Canyon. Photo by Suzanne Vince

The 2.5 mile hike on the Kukui Trail, while beautiful, was arguably the most challenging physical endeavor I’ve undertaken (including Ironman). While 2.5 miles doesn’t seem that long, the trail is covered in gravel and you descend 2,000 vertical feet in that short distance.

In a word, it was brutal. And beautiful. It was brutiful.

The second hike was on the Kalalau trail on the incredible Napali coast. Another challenging course—mostly because it was raining and our shoes were caked with mud—but the views were spectacular. Here are a few of the many photos we took:

Kalalau Trail Hike. Photo by Suzanne Vince

Other adventures included:

Stand up Paddle Boarding:

Photo Courtesy of Google Images

Watching the sun set:

Photo by Suzanne Vince

Watching the full moon rise:

Photo by Montana Vince

What about you? Do you have any vacation plans this summer? Where to? And if you’ve just been, I’d love to see some photos.

I love hearing from you. And to prove it, for every comment you leave, you’ll be entered into a drawing. At the end of the month, I will draw a lucky winner who will receive a $10 gift card (your choice, Amazon, Starbucks or iTunes). Winners will be announced in the first post of the following month.

Lucky gift card winner for June: Florida Fiel (Florida – please email me at suzanne@suzannevince.com to claim your lucky prize).

Coming Up:

Friday: Sacrificial Virgin Wanted: Stupid Tourist Will Do

Next Tuesday:Study: 25% of Men Travel with a Teddy Bear

The Reincarnated Soul of St. Francis of Assisi

Suzanne Vince — Fri, 28 Jun 2013 11:00:41 +0000

St. Francis of Assisi, the Patron Saint of Animals

I’m pretty sure I’m the reincarnated soul of St. Francis of Assisi, the Patron Saint of Animals. It started like this. In 1986, as I pulled into a McDonald’s in the middle of a brutal Chicago winter, my headlights shone onto a small, moving object. Upon further investigation, I found a tiny (maybe 1-2 week old) kitten, shivering in a snow bank, too cold to even cry. I tucked her inside my coat, took her home, fed her with an eye dropper and nursed her to health. And of course, kept her. Turns out she was blind, but she adapted well and became my study buddy (I was still in college).

Fast forward to 1999. Now living in Napa Valley, California, I was outside washing my car when a bedraggled black cat appeared out of nowhere and collapsed at my feet. I swooped her up, wrapped her in a blanket and took her to the vet.

Photo Courtesy of Google Images

Two hours and $700 later, I brought her home, fed her and decided to keep her. My sister, with whom I was living at the time, named her Lucky (“because she is,” my sister said). She died two weeks later, but at least she was well loved and cared for during her last days.

Six years later, as my dog dragged me around the block one morning, we walked by a hedge (separating two houses) that began to meow. I peeked inside and saw several pairs of little eyes staring back at me. The next morning the meows grew louder, more insistent. Momma cat was nowhere to be found.

That night I parked in front of the hedge, drew out my oversized cat carrier and reached into the bush for one of the tiny kittens. The bush proved to be a formidable opponent. Thirty minutes later, when my arms were bloody from the dense brush, I drove home, grabbed a can of tuna and went back. One by one the babies came out and I quickly grabbed them up. There were eight in all. Taking them to the SPCA where I was a volunteer, each found a new and loving home.

My next heroic rescue came five years ago, while I was home recovering from surgery. As I drove down the main thoroughfare in my part of town toward the Starbucks, a mother duck was crossing the street with her three little ducklings.

Photo Courtesy of Google Images

I watched in horror as the car in front of me mowed them down. I slammed my car into park, jumped out and halted traffic in both directions. Ushering the babies who all had thankfully survived to the side of the road, I went back and carefully lifted Momma—badly injured but still alive—and brought her over to her babies. Unsure of what to do next, I called my vet to ask if they treat ducks. As the woman on the other end told me, “Um, no, sorry,” the mother flapped her giant wings and flew to the top of a nearby building.

I snapped my phone shut and gaped in wonder as the ducklings ran circles around my legs, crying for their mother. A man approached and as I relayed the story, he told me that the mother was waiting for me to leave, that she would tend to her babies once I had gone. Reluctantly I left the scene and went to Starbucks.

When I pulled into the parking lot at Starbucks, I rear-ended a guy. He jumped out of his car and started flailing his arms and swearing at me. My face scrunched up and tears began to flood my eyes. “I’m so sorry,” I said, my breath coming in ragged gasps, “but there was this duck . . . and the babies . . . and they were . . . mowed down . . . and I . . . oh, God, it’s just so . . . ”

At this point the guy looked at his bumper, glanced at me like I was a crack addicted clown and practically dove into his car, tires squealing as he peeled out of the parking lot. On my way back I was pleased to see that mother and babies had flown the coop.

Two years ago while I was once again home on medical leave—this time recovering from pneumonia—I went out to the mailbox and found a little duckling lying in the gutter. I stood her up and when she toppled back over, I realized that she was lame and her mother had abandoned her.

Precious (photo by Suzanne Whitfield Vince)

Sooooo, I scooped her up, took a picture of her because she was way too cute (see above), and named her Precious because she was. Then I took her to the Wild Bird Rescue some 30 minutes from the house, where she would be raised with other baby ducks and eventually released into the wild.

Since then I’ve rescued a baby mourning dove whose mother abandoned it, buried another one who I was unable to save beneath the angel statue in my back yard, and relocated several creatures (most recently a snail that was smack dab in the middle of the running path near my house) to safer pastures.

And yesterday, on my way to work, I found a beautiful black Labrador running in the middle of the street on a country road I drive to work. I pulled over, called her to me, and tried to coax her into my car so I could move her to safety. No joy. I called a friend at work whose son works as a sheriff in town. He came to help, but the two of us were unable to get her into his SUV. Finally, when a third person joined the effort, we successfully lifted her into the sheriff’s car and he set off to find her family.

I’m not Catholic and I’m not exactly saint material so I’m pretty sure I can’t be canonized, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night AND I’m getting ready to go on medical leave again. I’m already beginning to wonder what creature God will put in my path this time. I can’t wait to find out.

What about you? If you were the Patron Saint of Something (anything at all), what would that something be?

Coming Up:

Next Tuesday: You Know it’s Time for a Vacation When . . .

Next Friday: Sacrificial Virgin Wanted: Stupid Tourist Will Do

What’s Your Six-Word Skin Care Story?

Suzanne Vince — Fri, 31 May 2013 11:00:07 +0000

If you had to write a story about yourself using only six words, what would it be? You can choose words to describe what you look like, what you value, what you want from life. You can choose any words you like. For my skin care story, I would talk about the fact that I tried Sdara products, and they made such a huge difference to me.

Personally I take my skin care really serious. I have gone to dermatologists many times to treat my skins. I have done so many facials in mooresville. It was honestly great and I cant thank my past self enough of choosing to take care of me fully. After all those treatments, I look younger than my age and that is really amazing to me.

What about you? What would your six-word story be?