Paolina Milana - author and writer for hire

Everybody has a story. I've been telling people's stories for decades. I'm an award-winning writer and published author with journalistic roots and a marketing background. Let me help you write or ghostwrite the story of your life. Also available for corporate brand storytelling.

Screwing Up, Loving Fears, Changing Worlds

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Comedy. It’s always given us the best of times and often helps us cope with the worst of times, all while delivering the wisest of wisdoms. George Carlin, Robin Williams, and Ellen DeGeneres are just a sprinkle of the smart alecks who actually have had something smart to say and who have been able to make us laugh while they’re saying it. Interesting to me is the fact that it seems as if each one’s humor has been born from just the opposite — depression, persecution, fear…

Kyle Cease I Hope I Screw This Up

Kyle Cease, a guy I knew very little of, until I happened to stumble upon his free “Evolving Out Loud” videos, is proving to be a comedic genius in his own right, offering up some of the most hilarious yet spot-on inspirational messages of our time. Having just finished his recently published book “I Hope I Screw This Up: How Falling In Love with Your Fears Can Change the World” I find myself so blown away at what he has to share and how much of it resonates with me and so many others. This blog post is dedicated to him, his incredible crew, and to the changes he’s helping to bring about in this world, all of them for the better. Here are just a few (8, since that’s my favorite number) of passages from his new book that spoke so clearly to me, and I hope they will to you, too:

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Losing Your Voice

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Yesterday, I enjoyed a few hours chatting with like-minded new friends. As we munched on homemade fava bean puree on crostini and an onion quiche, we shared our personal and professional triumphs and tribulations. Three strong and accomplished women: each of us experiencing similar situations and emotions. We leaned on one another and supported each other. And when we parted, I felt renewed and inspired and very, very fortunate to have been part of the conversation.

Imagine my surprise when upon returning home, I suddenly lost my voice. Not a whisper, not a squeak, not a single sound possible for me to make. Surely, I had not talked THAT much…? And true, I had been having some allergy like symptoms for weeks (dry cough, stuffy nose), but to all of a sudden completely lose the ability to speak…? There was no warning that this was coming, and no history to point to that it was even a possibility. Never in my entire life have I ever lost my voice.

As all of us probably do, I consulted with my doctor…the Internet. Most “reasons why” pointed to overuse or associated with some other ailment such as strep throat. But none of the reasons why seemed to fit me. Treatments conflicted one with the other: lemon was good for you; lemon was too acidic to do you good – same with salt.

The only things that did prove true were that a) I had been struck silent; b) no logical or concrete reason why; and c) the only universally acceptment prescription to heal?: be still.

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Finding The Spine of Your Story

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The story of my life has been an Etch-A-Sketch of ups and downs. The highs and joys and triumphs are heaven. The lows and sorrows and failures…not so much. I find myself right now in the “below the line” season. It doesn’t really matter why or how I got here. And I know that “this, too, shall pass” just as every celebratory moment before it has. This, however, hurts.

Those wise old folks known as “they” tell us often that in moments of turmoil, we learn and grow the most. Tony Robbins, the self-proclaimed “I am not your guru” guru reminds us that “life is always happening for us, not to us.” I’m seasoned enough by now to realize this is true.

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Be The Sloth: Embracing Stillness

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Costa Rica. Never had it been on my radar, let alone my bucket list. But after my experience in Africa, the search for a budget-friendly escape from constantly being on the move and surrounded by “man-made” was on, and Costa Rica rose to the top of our list.

We spent two weeks in late February touring the country, Monteverde and Manuel Antonio revealing themselves to be among the favorite destinations during our trip. Ironically, both for the very same reason: stillness.

In Monteverde, we ziplined through the cloud forest. Some might say that experience is actually the polar opposite of being still. I would argue that it’s not. True, while attached to a wire and pulley system, you’re literally flying through the air – the very opposite of being still – the fact that there’s nothing around you while you’re doing it, is, IMHO, an opportunity to be still – with yourself, with your thoughts.

costa rica sloth

In Manuel Antonio, true stillness was demonstrated by the sloths in the trees. The time it takes these creatures to even consider a move is extraordinary. And for me and others like me who are always needing to “do” these hairy critters are great reminders of the power of just “being”…

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Giving Up The Need To Know

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Why?

I often have said that “why” is my favorite question of all. Anyone who knows me, knows that I do love to ask questions, so choosing this one word above all others is saying a lot. (My husband thinks I ask so many questions that he even calls me “the interrogator”; Of course, I think he exaggerates and I prefer to point to my roots as a features reporter to explain my behavior.)

In retrospect, I realize that throughout my entire existence, I’ve had an innate need to know why. Why something happens. Why something doesn’t materialize. Why something or someone behaves the way he/she/they do. Why now? Why not now? Why. Why. Why.

Sometimes, I’d find the answers. For example, the weekend before I was to leave for my one year away at Iowa State University, friends treated me to lunch at an eatery called D.B. Kaplan’s that sat on the top floor of Chicago’s Water Tower Place. A great time was had by all! Until we all were in our respective homes a few hours later, each of us experiencing excruciating stomach pains.

Surprise! We all ended up getting food poisoning. As a result, my departure for school was delayed. I didn’t know the why when it was happening, and I cursed the fact that it was, indeed, happening and ruining my carefully mapped out plans. But months later, when the tuition bill came, and I hadn’t the dollars in my bank account to pay it, the why revealed itself.

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The Gift of Getting What We Tolerate

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‘Tis the season to be jolly.” Or not.

It all depends on a great many factors, and for many of us, family and friends play a key role in our experiences – good, bad, ugly – during the holidays. This Christmas, however, I was reminded that being jolly or not really depends on one thing and one thing only: ourselves.

snow ANF

It’s not always easy to swallow, but the truth of it is that we alone are responsible for our happiness. No matter what family or friends or life in general throws our way, how we react determines how we end up feeling.

We sit down to dinner with the family, reach for a second slice of pie, and mom asks us, “Do you really need that?”

We call up a friend to rendezvous to toast the season, only to learn that she’s struggling to find time to even pencil us in.

We try and try and try, year after year to find the perfect gift for our not-so-easy-to-please significant other, and this year, we think we’ve found it. But from the reaction we get upon their opening of our gift, it’s pretty clear we haven’t.

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Secret to Survival: Care Less when Caregiving

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Growing up as a first-generation Sicilian with “English Second Language” parents immediately turned me into the family translator (or, as first introduced in the infamous “Godfather” movies: the consigliere – a position of caring for yourselfleadership counsel within the Mafia). My being raised by a mom who was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, and who was barely able to care for herself, let alone her four kids, added to my role as la piccola mamma (Italian for “little mother” as my father often called me). Add to all that, my younger sister also being diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia when we both were in our twenties, and to whom I became official guardian, and the trajectory into the bigger role of family caregiver is one I took on, whether I wanted to or not, beginning at the age of ten and continuing well into my 40s.

I have a lot of experience as an “unintentional” caregiver. And first thing I know to be true is that few people actually sign up for the role. With rare exception, it just seems to happen. Someone gets sick. Someone loses an income. Someone is born with a major disability. Someone is not aging well.

When it comes to caregiving, it’s always about someone. Someone else.

And that’s where I think we caregivers get into trouble. That’s when we begin to lose ourselves. That’s when we might resent that someone else. That’s when we feel stuck, alone, trapped. And that’s when we’re no longer what’s best for ourselves, let alone someone else.

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Now Is The Time to Stand Up to Reality

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When I was 14, I worked at a Donut Shop. A 40-year old police officer had befriended me. Then, he made his move on mashes-in-the-winde. And it was far from the romantic notions a young girl has when fantasizing about her first time.

To be clear: I had welcomed his attentions for all the months leading up to that fateful night. I dreamt up all sorts of schoolgirl “boy kisses girl” scenarios; the kinds of sexual scenes I used to read about in romance novels, my favorite being author Kathleen E. Woodiwiss’ “Ashes in the Wind.” This was a story about a young woman on the run who had to disguise herself as a boy to hide from Union soldiers who had wrongly charged her as a Confederate spy. A Yankee surgeon decides to help the boy, unaware she is a beautiful woman, until one night, while inebriated, he accidentally encounters her out of disguise (she pretending to be a prostitute)…which leads him to take her to bed.

It all ends well for the fictional couple. But that’s fiction. And not reality.

Reality is more similar to behavior that Donald Trump graphically spoke to and we all heard through the leaked videotape of his conversation with Billy Bush from Access Hollywood. Trump says that he can do anything he wants to women, even “grab them by the pussy.” He later apologized in his disingenuine way. But the response to his comments and character echoed my own.

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Soul Collage: Giving Voice to The Real Me

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A friend invited me to something called “Soul Collage” for writers. I was feeling a bit down, and I hadn’t seen her for a while, so I figured I’d go. I had no idea what I really was walking into.

The room held only a handful of us: one woman a multi-Olympic medal winner; one man an award-winning screenwriter; a few others and me. No rhyme or reason as to what brought us all together. The leader asked us to move to a part of the room where on the floor and in boxes were hundreds if not thousands of pictures. Some photographs, some works of art, some images torn out of magazines and books. Some were landscapes, some inanimate objects, some human, some animals. Some gave no hint to what they were, other than abstract. We were told to choose ten or so images that jumped out at us and called our name. No need to think much. Just act on instinct.

Once we had our images, we returned to our work tables and layed them out. A frame captured them into one view. And then we were asked to tell everyone in the room what our “soul collage” had to say about us…

THAT is when we all struggled to find our voices. Not because we couldn’t, but because we were struck a bit speechless at what our true selves had to say. My “soul collage” revealed to me something I always have felt deep inside: that I’m unique, different, special…and that I defy gravity and was meant to rise to a greater purpose.

We each were to have our say, outloud. Here’s what came out of me:

“I am the one who is power. I am the one who is weak. I am the one who everyone sees the exterior stone. But I am the one who inside feels all alone. I am the one who tells herself how unworthy she is. I am the one who used to have a protector, and that protector used to be me. I am the one who now allows others to tell me how unworthy I am. I am the one who finds myself in the middle of a circus. I am the one who doesn’t even know who she is anymore. I am the one who struggles to allow both sides to co-exist.

What I have to say to you is both sides of you are worthy. Both the vulnerable and the bitch. What I have to say to you is that you are power, not just when you’re swinging a hammer, but even when you’re at your most vulnerable.”

I visited my long-time shrink in Chicago and shared my “soul collage” with her. She immediately focused on the little girl front and center, asking me, “So what do you think she’s saying to you?”

I wasn’t sure.

My shrink said, “She’s tapping her foot and telling you ‘come on already’!”

As usual, my shrink was right.

I feel something changing. I always have. I’ve always fought it for one reason or another. Maybe for one excuse or another. The power I’ve always believed to be inside me. And it’s trying to get me to where I believe I’m supposed to be.

In One Year, Nothing Will Be The Same

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One year ago tomorrow, my husband and I boarded a plane to Africa. It was a life-long dream of mine to celebrate my 50th birthday, as well aserengeti-hot-air-balloon-migration-2s my book being published, and, well, my entire existence thus far by spending nearly the entire month of September exploring as much of Africa as possible. Ever since my father had told me that as he was growing up in Sicily that he always considered Africa to be “il giardino” (likening Africa to the Garden of Eden), something inside of me had decided back then that one day, I would experience this birthplace of all life first-hand and in as much of an indulgent way as I could afford.

We started our journey in Cape Town, South Africa and criss-crossed our way through Zimbabwe, taking in Victoria Falls, up to Botswana where we got up close and personal with Elephants, and ended our stay in the Serengeti. We stayed in some of the most luxurious of lodges as well as in makeshift temporary tents with wildlife prowling just outside our canvas doors.

serengeti-rocks

Rising before the sun itself, heading out in open-air jeeps, witnessing animals of every species coexisting in harmony, and just sitting, just being in the moment, unhooked, unplugged, and at such peace…it has stayed with me and has changed me. This change being that for the better.

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