Be Brave Blog

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Beginning to unravel certainty

Within our lives exist deeply personal journeys that can only be taken one step at a time. There are no shortcuts, no ‘Collect $200 and advance to GO.’ Slowly, painfully at times, I’ve worn holes in my shoes pacing and scuffing the floor as a distraction, a hesitation. At the same time, this particular one has brought me to a place of peace within myself. Wrestling with how I walk out my faith.

And while I’m not entirely ‘there’ yet, considerable ground has been traversed. And the not knowing yet is a component of the peace. Focusing each month on one of Brené Brown’s Guideposts for Wholehearted Living has resulted in a journey of its own thus far. But this month’s is timely, “Letting go of the need for certainty and Embracing intuition and trusting faith.” Buckle up.

Raise your hand if you were raised “in church.” Me too. Each Sunday we’d make our way to the little chapel in Yosemite Valley – picturesque really – to sit for an hour on hard, wooden benches and listen to our conservative pastor share the Word. I was even baptized in the Merced River that meandered through the meadow across the street.

Looking back, church was the event. Being a Christian was simply who we were in my family. Like many, once I was out of the house, regular church attendance became a sporadic event. That was, until my kids were on the scene and a nagging moral obligation to return to the chapel poked at me long enough that I listened.

Certainty enters the picture

Fast forward to early midlife when I was ‘all in’ at church again. Attending a hip, cool one that met in a movie theater, I drank it in, meeting supportive, loving people. Over the years, I recall hearing about something called Apologetics, which sounded boring to my non-analytical brain. Here’s how the internet defines it: reasoned arguments or writings in justification of something, typically a theory or religious doctrine. In my words, it’s a way to ‘prove’ your beliefs about God, Jesus and the Bible. Apologetics is rooted in certainty.

Which is why I never grabbed on to it. My faith was never about certainty. It was about trusting the knowing in my heart, still is. Never did I feel compelled to argue for it. Some would say that’s part of my Christian “job.” Ok. That doesn’t change anything for me. Still not going for it. When you let go of certainty, you open space to wonder. A space to ask questions, to listen to what the whisper of your heart is telling you.

Letting go of certainty

And I have a LOT of questions and wonder. Maybe you do to. Or not…and if that’s the case…cool for you. Throughout the month, thoughts which brew in my mind I’ll be throwing out for consideration, but not all at once. Letting go of certainty may be a journey you’re also on. Perhaps it’s about your faith, or maybe about an aspect of your life you held as true but now you wrestle with it. In case no one else has told you, you’re allowed. You can have questions, you can challenge popularly held beliefs, you can wonder. The world will not end.

Trusting your intuition

Because whatever you believe, about faith or something else, it’s honestly no one else’s business. What is your intuition telling you? The rumblings of your heart? Those nudges that push you towards asking questions, that’s your intuition, it’s the still small voice. And if you’re scared? It could be a sign that you’re on to something big. Something within you than needs to be explored. Go there. Know though that your exploration may not be popular. And still, it’s ok. As we explore this subject and we’ll also talk about the cost. But not today. Today, simply wonder and trust your intuition. I’m on the journey with you. Be Brave.

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How to take off your masks

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a doctor. Specifically, a baby doctor. Babysitter extraordinaire for my neighborhood, I could not get enough of the babies. At 14, the nuance that obstetrician also meant gynecologist, and that the only involvement with babies this girl would have was coming out, was lost on me. If my poor results in science classes hadn’t have dissuaded me from pursuing that passion, our current requirement to wear masks would have.

How doctors and nurses are wearing them all day long escapes me. I wear mine to the store and am half convinced I’m going to hyperventilate before I exit the produce aisle. If told I had to wear it continuously, I’d have to find a new profession. Which is why I will remain working at home as long as necessary to avoid donning my mask on a consistent basis.

You might be nodding along with me, high fiving me, yeah! Wearing a mask, while currently necessary in public, is not my dream come true.

So, why do we do it?

Why do we put forward a version of ourselves that guarantees belonging but is less than our true and authentic self? That is a mask. It’s not an act of deception, it’s an act of desperation. One we believe necessary. Because deep in our hearts, we’re afraid that if people saw who we really were, at our core, the messy, confused, questioning, silly, goofy self we are, they wouldn’t like us. If they saw that we aren’t convinced that what we’ve been told to believe our entire lives made sense, at least not 100% of it, we’d be out of the club.

And we desperately want to be part of the club.

We want to belong

As women, many of us are “faking it to protect our belonging,” according to Jen Hatmaker, and I agree. We don’t set out of wear a mask. It’s not one of the lessons we learn as a child. It’s not our heart to deceive anyone. But as we mature, we notice how people respond to us. We see what gains positive attention and what gains negative attention. We learn to fit in…to go along…to not make waves. And as we do, we’re slowly giving away parts of ourselves. Because the club…we think it’s everything.

The club wants to keep us as a member. They’ll double down if they see us start to ask questions. Or if we start to behave in a manner that isn’t ‘acceptable.’ “You’ve changed!” they cry, shaming us into circling back to our thoughts, our beliefs, our behaviors that fit in. And we do it. For a while. We continue wearing our mask, conforming, fitting in. Not voicing what the still small voice is telling us.

Healthcare workers on the front line have taken pictures showing the result of wearing their masks constantly. Marks, rashes, evidence of covering their face. Not dissimilar to what happens to our hearts, our inner self, our own souls, when we keep the mask on, covering who we are, it leaves a mark. Unlike healthcare workers, we have a choice, we can take off our mask.

What happens when the mask comes off

And it may very well have consequences. We need to re-navigate our relationships, some of which may not survive. When we step into our true selves, depending on the size of the step, we may lose relationships. Lose our club membership. But we maintain our integrity. If we continue to fake it, we will slowly be eaten up inside. I know, I’ve been there. I had simmering anger inside me that I couldn’t even name. Until I did. I had no other choice but to take off the mask. And it came with a high cost.

So, for you, what is the mask you’re wearing? Or better yet, what is your still small voice telling you? Has the time come that you listen? If it has, know that it is worth it. More than anything, it is worth it. To be at peace with yourself, with your integrity, it’s worth it. Know that you’re not alone on the journey, I’m right there with you. Be Brave.

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What do you need to discover within silence?

Unexpected circumstances led to my son returning to live with me two weeks ago, accompanied by his puppy. Koa is a year and a half, we believe a full blood Australian Shepherd, and attached to Bodie’s hip. Seriously. She follows him everywhere and only now, two weeks in, do I see her entertaining the idea that I may not be a threat. Yesterday, she remained on the ottoman with my feet long after Bodie made his way upstairs. Win.

What lies in the silence?

I’m no canine expert, in fact only within the past few years have I completely overcome my intense fear of dogs. The multiple dog bites of my youth cemented that. But what strikes me about Koa is her silence. Rarely does she bark, I can’t recall hearing her whine – even when patiently sitting next to me while I prepare dinner using her mind melting skills…drop.the.carrot. She’s sweet as can be, but she’s also timid and shy. Less so as she warms up to me, but she hasn’t let down her guard yet.

As I’ve been observing her, coupled with Bodie’s belief that she was abused based on her behavior (he’s had her 2 months), I wonder about the life she lived with her prior owner. A life which resulted in her shying away, approaching you with her head down, responding in a non-correlative way to correction…far more reactive than the rebuke she’s given.

Unlocking your inner-self

My heart wishes that she could tell me what her soul feels. What is locked inside from her life experiences so that we could help heal her with our love.

It’s the same thing I want for myself. The same thing I want for you.

Literally zero people escaped their childhood without scars which impact how we interact with our selves, other people and the world around us. Zero. Do not try to tell me you’re the one because I’d be happy to dig into it with you. It doesn’t have to be catastrophic to be impactful. In fact, most of the time, it’s the day to day way you adapted to your circumstances that leave lasting imprints.

Armed with our unique lens, we land in the middle of life. Often ill equipped to maneuver our way through relationships with ourselves or others, we may remain silent. We may not have been taught the tools to talk about how we feel, what we’re experiencing, what we desire. Those were certainly not part of the parent manual I received. What to Expect when you’re Expecting told me what would happen to my body, how large the baby was, basically how to keep them alive once they were born. I do not remember one word about developing emotional literacy or talking about hard things.

We all need practice

Lacking the tools, we don’t express our hearts, what we’re feeling, what is happening within us. And within our inner silence, we know there’s more. We can sense it, feel it, taste it. But it’s just outside our grasp. We may be afraid of what’s happening in that inner space and falsely believe no one would love us if they really knew. Knew the thoughts we had, or our true desires. We’d be too much, we wouldn’t be meeting their expectations, we’d disappoint them.

Maybe.

Step into your full self

But at the end of the day, I’m starting to believe it doesn’t matter. We must cultivate our own story, put words to our experiences, discover what lies within our silence and allow ourselves to be seen and heard. Without our cover story. Simply as we are. Because we’re allowed to act differently, think differently, express ourselves differently. And when we don’t? We may as well be Koa, trapped within herself, silent…not able to express that she’s afraid, scared, nervous, or whatever it is she might be feeling based on her life thus far.

We have a choice. To step out of our own silence and into the light where we let people see who we are. Unafraid. Heads held high. I see you and am with you my friend. Be brave.

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How are you getting what you need?

Quick. On one hand count how often you got together in April 2019 with 15 of your girlfriends at 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning to practice meditation and Koia? The answer? Zero. Perhaps even less than zero because you may very well have been asleep. In the era of shelter in place, my answer for April 2020 is 3 out of 3 thanks to my social and mileage-wise distanced friend Michelle. In what I’d describe divinely inspired, she created the Self-Love Project through her coaching company, My Village Well. Bringing together her village of women, which I’ve stumbled into, she hosts workshops throughout the year.

Creating Connection

Addressing our shelter in place requirement thanks to COVID, she created the project to provide space for women to feel and simply be for an hour. In the midst of all the noise which we’re faced with surrounding the pandemic, taking time to breathe feels precious and soul nurturing. Today, her guest speaker Nicole led the group through a short, mindful, Koia practice, which basically involves movement, dance and connection to your body. We danced to the Rolling Stones singing You Can’t Always Get What You Want, after which she encouraged us to journal following the prompt…I might not be getting what I want, but where am I getting what I need? As she spoke the words, I had an aha moment.

Letting go of scarcity

Throughout April, I’ve been focusing on the Wholehearted Living Guidepost of ‘letting go of scarcity and fear of the dark’. If you think God doesn’t have a sense of humor, think again, because having pre-chosen that, not knowing we’d be sheltering in place seems serendipitous. Focus on letting go when it feels as though we’re gazing into the eye of scarcity every single moment.

So, I pondered where the aha was taking me, and thought about the abundance rising out of COVID. I rarely know what I want, it’s my internal struggle. An Enneagram 9, I avoid disrupting the peace and as a result have been known to go along to get along. And I’ve made it my mission to push myself into defining what I want, what I need. It’s not easy. Although I’m working at home through shelter in place, I also have an abundance of time to breathe and ponder what I want and need. I have plenty, not lack.

It appears that what I need is time. Space. A slower pace. I’ve found myself releasing the internal drive (I may be an Enneagram 9, but my 1 wing is strong) to be in motion. The 1 that often overshadows my easygoing 9 self and tells her to get out of the chair and DO. What I need is connection at a heart level, which Michelle’s Self Love Project Saturdays provide.

What do you need?

My question for you is the same, if you aren’t getting what you want, where are you getting what you need? Take 15 minutes out of your day and spend 5 dancing to the song that allows you to shake it out and then another 10 minutes journalling your thoughts about the question. What you find may surprise you. Because when we’re paying attention, we can see abundance and there is joy in the midst of whatever this is we’ve experiencing. We simply need to slow down and see it. Be brave my friends, I’m on the journey with you.

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Looking for stillness within scarcity

Rarely do we see scarcity on the wide scale basis we are today. Beyond day to day niceties, eating out, shopping in a physical store, getting my nails done (that struggle is real), the sense of ‘lack’ is a shared reality.

We lack human interaction, spending time with friends or family, we lack connection…shared experiences. We lack physical touch from another human person. Social distancing put an end, at least for the moment, to human to human life. For our own, and others, safety, we stay at home. I live alone at the moment and other than talking to people at the grocery store or drive through at Starbucks from six feet away, I have no in person connection. But lack is not limited to me because I’m single. It’s pervasive. Across socio-economic boundaries, regions, personal circumstances. We’re spending abundant amounts of time alone, or with one or two other people.

Scarcity becoming stillness

When I was 35, I was newly divorced and living in a new city – alone. My children were with their father and I unexpectedly found myself grappling with an empty house. I can recall being profoundly miserable. Lonely. Sad. Unable to sit in that house alone and simply be. I created background noise 100% of the time. The television became my roommate. I didn’t know what to do with myself, how to be with myself. The lack I felt was guttural. Deep waves of melancholy would wash over me on any given day. Scarcity in terms of connection was palpable.

35 was a long time ago. I’ve lived half that much life since then and look back on the time as transformative. Because within the lack, within that space of darkness, I instead found stillness. I was forced to get to know myself. To become comfortable with me and learn more about my own thoughts and desires. It wasn’t the path I dreamed of as a little girl, but it was the path I was on. And I survived. I found different ways to have connection, mainly within the stillness of my mind. It was a time of discovery. Of letting go of what was and deciding who I wanted to be. Somewhere in the middle of the alone time, I got comfortable with me. With being alone and making friends with myself.

It’s something I’ve done cyclically since that time. Peeling off outer layers to see what’s underneath. What I wanted to shed, and what I wanted to explore.

Stillness leads to transformation

Periods of stillness provide space for transformation. I’m writing this on Easter and my mind goes to Jesus, in the tomb, and His transformation. The love and hope He promised to the world.  Our stillness can be our time of transformation. It’s our choice. Isolation doesn’t have to be lonely. While we lack connection with others, we can find inner clarity and connection. Use this time to examine our hearts and explore what brings us joy, what we’re grateful for, where we have love and hope. Those elements that cannot be taken from us. We can look within ourselves and ask if there’s an area that feels like a splinter. Festering, needing to be removed, leaving us relieved that it’s gone. Maybe you need to consider what you thought was essential but that you are finding stillness without and see the joy in that new space opened inside you.

Yes, we’re experiencing scarcity, but that mere fact can bring us joy and gratitude because we have room to breathe. Slowly, intentionally. Time to ponder, to consider, to dream. We’ve slowed down, not by choice, but here we are. What we choose to do with the abundance of time, yes, abundance, not lack, is personal. But it’s a choice we’re all making. Make a brave one. I’m on the journey with you.

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Wholehearted living requires letting go of scarcity

It may go down in history as the great toilet paper shortage of 2020. People unexplainably acquiring massive amounts, envision entire shopping carts full, of toilet paper, as we prepared for the unknown virus facing our country. While buying toilet paper is seemingly benign, it’s indicative of the underlying message many believe, which is that there is not enough, a symptom of a culture of scarcity.

In an interview with Gwyneth Paltrow, Brené Brown shared, “Scarcity thrives in a culture where everyone is hyper-aware of lack. Everything from safety and love to money and resources feels restricted or lacking.”  Our fear of scarcity thrives in the dark. It thrives on blame, shame, pointing outward instead of getting curious about what’s happening within our hearts and minds. Instead of sitting with the knowing that there is enough.

Letting go of scarcity – the fourth guidepost

My year of wholeheartedly living has brought me to the fourth guidepost which is letting go of scarcity. The timing is nothing if not serendipitous as the world around us has come to a hard stop and collective fear is the name of the game. Beyond the lack in material supply, we’re seeing a lack of employment, of face to face interaction, of connection. And while you can find news outlets talking about the human connection element of this crisis, it’s generally not the leading story on the nightly news.

And we remain in darkness, the breeding ground for the elements Brené defines as scarcity: shame, comparison and disengagement. Our roles at home have quadrupled. As women, if we’re working from home, we may also be homeschooling children, keeping the house clean, preparing not one but now three meals a day, and holding space for all the emotions swirling around our homes.

Never ____________ enough

The competing demands within our homes may lead us to feel depleted. With nothing left to give. The competing demands lead us to fill in our own blank;

Never good enough

Never perfect enough

Never confident enough

Never feminine enough

Never active enough

Never organized enough

Never…enough

The feelings multiply in the darkness. We may feel a chasm of darkness within us because the one who is keeping ‘all the things’ moving within our home has no space for her own feelings. She pushes them down and they swirl as a drop of color into otherwise clear water…soon losing their clarity.

The antidote – Cultivate Gratitude and Joy

Combating scarcity requires curiosity…questioning our experience, what we’re feeling. It requires we step into that uncomfortable space of vulnerability. Honestly, living with vulnerability is a day by day journey. But when we choose to talk about what’s happening within us, we can view our feelings as data. Providing us with information about what we need, desire…our hopes, our strengths. We can shift from scarcity, and instead, remember that, even in our current circumstance, we can cultivate gratitude and joy.

Joy that we’re spending more time with our families. Grateful to have the space to take a breath. We have time, what normally may feel like the scarcest of all resources. To believe we must do it all leaves us depleted. We may not have toilet paper, but we have time. Time to get curious about our feelings. Time to see joy in the moments spent with family. Gratitude for our own health.

We have enough. And for that, I am grateful.

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How we can look for joy today

Do you have a guilty pleasure song? One which opens a window your inner design and at the same time brings your heart joy every time you listen to it? Yeah, me too. It’s Whitney, gone to soon, the diva, the queen. And although she rivals Celiné in my heart, her rendition of One Moment in Time…it’s the biz.

But let me clarify, it’s a song I listen to only when I’m alone. Often while cleaning the house. Blaring through the speaker as I sing like a trained soprano, with hand movements, and maybe a little swing in my hips. It’s my epic performance for an audience of one. I remember a time last year though when I wished that wasn’t the case. Here’s why.

What joy looks like

The joy I feel within myself when singing along with Whitney, getting my groove on…it’s a moment of freedom and a glimpse into my playful side, which honestly doesn’t come out often. I wished in that moment that someone close to me could that side, without my knowing or becoming self-conscious so I would continue, so that they’d know I’m more than the responsible front I put forward each and every day. They’d see the playful side.

I can explain in words that beyond my strong exterior lies the heart of a little girl who enjoys a good twirl. A girl wants to feel carefree and light, but unless that side is seen, it may seem like a hologram. I do believe there are people that regularly experience joy, but I also believe you must cultivate it, be mindful of seeking and bringing joy into your life.

Why joy is important

Our days are a mixed bag of experiences, light and cheery could quickly become hard and painful. No, really. That’s how it goes…at least for me. And hard and painful is enduring, it leaves marks. But when we can tap into joy, we find resilience. Joy reminds us that we feel and feel deeply. It reminds us that the dark won’t last forever. That we’re not numb, not powerless. We can make a choice. And honestly, resiliency is a choice. We must choose to bounce back, and that happens through joyful moments and practice.

How to bring joy into your day

Perhaps Whitney is not where you find joy. Perhaps you are also a savage.

I begrudgingly admit she’s not for everyone, but you know who your Whitney is. Whether it be a song, an activity, a movie, an experience, a person. You have that thing that reminds you of lighter times, casts a golden glow over your life. It’s a feeling of being carefree. Find it, bring it into your day, let your inner child come out and play. Remind yourself that the hard thing, it won’t always be there. It’s a moment, not your lifetime.

Make it a daily practice

Do I listen to Whitney every day? Lately, yes. We’re experiencing an unprecedented period in history. “It’s just the flu” no longer holds true. We’re facing a pandemic disrupting every corner of our life. If we’re not searching for joy, opening to it, we’re likely to find ourselves numb and lost. It’s hard and it sucks, for everyone to one degree or another. That part remains true.

But we can have hope. We can take a walk. Go on a social distancing bike ride. Play with kids, or your dog. Simple pleasures that mean everything, in this moment. Or, you can listen to Whitney. I will share her. You’re welcome.

Be safe, my friends. Bring in joy every single day so that you remain resilient. There are many aspects of our day to day we have no control over right now, but you can choose joy. We’re in this together. We’re brave.

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Why we need to get curious about our emotions

Is there a stronger word than unexpected? Unpredicted, startling, unforeseen… With a decent amount  of certainty I can say that what we’re collectively experiencing is all of that. And a bag of chips. In all seriousness, did anyone foresee within our lifetime that the United States would essentially shut down and tell nearly every person to stay at home?

Without forethought that the end of March would look as it does, I’d chosen to focus on the wholehearted living guidepost of resilience this month. Resilience is cultivated by getting curious about the emotions we experience during an adverse experience. Brené Brown wrote about resilience in Rising Strong. She boils it down to one primary attribute in this Business Insider article. Exploring your emotions.

Getting curious about your emotions

Anybody else want to join me in the collective desire to squirm at the idea of exploring your emotions?? As I walked out this work, it readily became apparent that I may have skipped that class earlier in life. Sure, I could name mad, sad, glad, and throw in disappointment…I have that one down pat. With near certainty I can say that disappointment has hit every one of us in the last month. What I’ve experienced over the last few weeks pales in comparison to those who are losing jobs, facing illness, business closures…devastation more accurately describes the collective emotion around the condition of the country today.

Write it down

On more than one occasion I’d have to raise my hand and admit that emotion has taken the wheel and driven me near the edge of a cliff. Not helpful.

What is helpful is to write down what you’re feeling. Brené Brown calls it the SFD. The shitty (or stormy for the more delicate reader) first draft. The equivalent of the verbal vomit. Think about what you’re experiencing right now, write it all down. The good, bad and ugly. The blame, shame…the everybody sucks and you’re dying version, unedited. Nobody else is going to read it, and probably shouldn’t…you’re not looking to bring others down with you…it’s about understanding what you’re feeling, how the emotions have taken hold.

Look up

Once we understand our emotions, we’re in a stronger position to see how they’ve taken hold of our thoughts. Emotions are feelings, they’re valid. But they’re not what’s actually happening. I one thousand and twenty percent acknowledge I’ve been fuzzy about the distinction between the two…maybe more than once…or ten times.

We get stuck and are not resilient when we jump into the emotional pool and feel powerless to do anything about it. That is not truth. It’s not the fact of the situation. Understanding our emotions allows us to rewrite the narrative. We choose what to do with the emotions, to look up and see the truth of what’s happening. Often, we’ve taken that truth and added on layers of emotion that take on a life of their own. The SFD gets us back to facts. It’s a way of speaking what we’re feeling and bringing it into the open so that the emotions no longer hold power. We do. We will move forward from this moment because we are resilient.

Connect to others

Understanding we’re not powerless, naming our emotion and seeing truth allows us to return to the present rather than feeling alone. Especially amid what we’re collectively experiencing, we need connection. More than ever, it simply looks different. It looks like Facetime, Zoom calls, texting…from our living rooms. Collectively we can choose to band together and build resilience. Yesterday morning, my weekly coffee was converted to a Facetime call, and it felt like we didn’t miss a beat. Yes, the emotions suck. In the blink of an eye we could be circling the drain. But that’s not what I’m seeing.

I see families…including both parents…taking walks, or bike rides together. Outside enjoying a beautiful spring day rather than looking out the window from a car. I’m told of people working in their gardens, shopping for elderly neighbors, sewing masks for health care professionals. Getting creative around staying connected. Building resilience.

Resilience makes us strong

I have a coaster on my desk at work, “Beautiful girl, you can do hard things.” Friends, you can do hard things. Facing the invisible enemy of COVID-19 is a hard thing. Those emotions you’re feeling, they’re normal, they’re valid. Write them down. Choose what you’ll do with them instead of handing them the reigns. Would you let a two-year old drive your car??

Choose your narrative. The one in which you have peace with our, yes, our situation. Stay connected and find joy in moments ‘together’ and in the simple pleasures of everyday life. We are strong, we’re brave and we’re resilient.

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Why we need other people, now more than ever

Months ago, we sent out the announcement. “Join us for a weekend of Dare to Lead™ in the cozy living room of my friend” (and partner) in this venture. I prepared for weeks (months, really), refining my material, combing over my PowerPoint and notes, preparing the materials. I’d spent the week reviewing and walking through the weekend of training in my head.

Unexpected Changes

And then, COVID-19 blew up. There’s no other way to describe in, in my opinion. What began as an easily spread, potentially serious depending on your existing health, virus in China now impacts every single one of us to some degree or another.

Yet, I was healthy, my friend – healthy, we were a go. I casually sent her a text early in the week to see if anyone had expressed concern, and the answer was no. When travel bans and “social distancing” became everyday vocabulary, we had a new landscape before us.

I got the call on Thursday morning, for class starting Friday, three hours from where I live. After much angst about it (by me) we decided to switch to a virtual class. Honestly, it’s playing out 100 times better than I’d even hoped for.

But there were a few people who dropped off. 16 hours looking at your computer isn’t for everyone. Disappointed not to participate but understanding.

More Impact from Social Distancing

I’ll be honest, when I say there was angst about the switch, it was more like a whisk stirred around all the thoughts I had in my mind about the weekend and I had to sort it out again, in 24 hours. And during those 24 hours, I also learned that a trip I had planned to Florida to celebrate a major milestone in my Dad’s career, was postponed. Along with my sister-in-law’s baby shower. And a likely celebration of my Grandpa’s upcoming 94th birthday. We Williams don’t mess around when we’re all together.

I felt the disappointment in my gut.

Along with millions of other people worldwide who are experiencing the cancellation, or virtualization, of training, conferences, weddings…school is being cancelled for weeks. Throughout the U.S. life is grinding to a standstill as we grapple with a solution to this virus.

And while I have mixed feelings about the literal standstill we’re experiencing, I am keenly aware of the immense change and disappointment millions are feeling. We’re watching the economy shift as a result of the cancellations. People are watching their retirement accounts plummet, and businesses are feeling the impact. Which trickles down to the workers, many of whom are sent home during closures and while some are paid, not all are so fortunate.

We need other people

We’re also being encouraged to stay away from others to stop the spread of the virus. So, on top of disappointment, many are shifting to isolation – a combination easily leading to depression. We need to be building resiliency.

If all goes according to plan, the virus will die out in 4-6 weeks and we’ll be given the ‘all clear’ to resume life. In military terms, we’ll be given the “As you were.” But as you were may no longer exist. We’ll be faced with recovering from the widespread impact of “social distancing.” Bouncing back may feel like starting from a dead stop.

Which is why we must stay connected to other people. While my class this weekend is virtual, we’re all on video and talking with each other, seeing each other, experiencing emotions together. We need to perpetuate those experiences with other people. Imagine if you were undertaking a complete house remodel. You may take the house down to the foundation as you begin your efforts. But you rebuild from that strong foundation.

Pour into your connections

It’s critical that we maintain and strengthen a strong foundation with people in our lives. Passivity won’t cut it. We need to actively maintain connection. Create moments for joy, shared experiences, a new way of “doing life together.” Nearly everyone is experiencing disruption and disappointment to one degree or another and the absolute worst thing we can do is isolate. We need other people, even if those people are at a distance.

We don’t stand a chance of being resilient and bouncing back if that foundation isn’t maintained. Not a single chance. People need us, we need each other. We’re facing a new normal, at least for the time being, and we owe it to each other, to our shared humanity, to step it up. Make extra efforts to connect with those you love, and those who may be alone. We’re cultivating resilience together. Distancing doesn’t have to mean disconnection. We’re literally on this journey together my friends, let’s be brave.

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Making your way on a bumpy path

Resiliency – my focus for the month. It’s top of mind and I’m noticing what adds to and what detracts from building joyful moments to bounce off when life becomes life. The aspects of day to day living that are, honestly, a drag. Because we all have the tough parts, even if we don’t want to acknowledge it.

I get in my own way

Much of my time is spent in my head, which is good and bad. On the plus side, it allows time for introspection. Thinking about ways in which I can continue to grow in life. Stretching, reaching. The downside? It allows time for introspection. Quickly moving past the good to look at the bad and the ugly. It takes little to get the downward spiral going. Before I know it, I’m in the phase of, “My body is gross, I’m ugly and nobody loves me.” A friend I used to spend hours and hours cycling with and I coined that phrase. It 1000% describes the woe is me state that knocks on my door at least once a week.

And look at what she’s doing!

Here’s the deal. Moseying along, living my authentic life, but that pesky comparison creeps up on me. I’ll start to notice the amazing work someone else is doing, in the SAME space I want to be doing it. The nerve. Well, actually, the amazing nerve because they are nailing it. And if they’re nailing it, why aren’t I? No really, why aren’t I?

In this moment, there is no joy, no bounce, no resiliency. Pure and simple, there is woe is me. Lasting anywhere from 2 minutes to a day, I ponder why I haven’t gotten off my butt and gotten my groove going. Instead here’s what happens. The workday ends and I head home thinking I’m going to work on the project, whatever that is. It might be a class I’m facilitating, painting I want to do, reading a great book that’s gathering dust beside me as we speak, the list goes on.

But instead of working on the project I make dinner, sit in my chair, feet up, and turn on Netflix. Learning about Mary Queen of Scots via Reign is a real thing people. Rather than making an impact on my world, even if only in a small way, I watch Mary, Francis, and Catherine…wondering what possible potion she’ll come up with next. Seriously people, this is my life.

I try and remember self-compassion. Maybe it’s what I need in the moment. Yes, it must be because it happens 5 nights a week.

Unexpected Resiliency Boost

My desire to create a space for women to step into their authentic self has percolated inside me for over 4 years. I take baby steps, but don’t see it to fruition. Staying in my space, my known, seems so much more peaceful. But the desire doesn’t go away. Which is why seeing other people nail it creates angst. I want to be doing it to. The other day, I was talking to a coach friend who shared this quote with me…

If you can see the path laid out in front of you, step by step, you know it’s not your path. Your own path you make with every step you take. That’s why it’s your path. Joseph Campbell

The joy it brought me to frame what I’ve been doing as part of my own path, one I truly don’t see clearly, which is why I double back so often. My path might have needed Netflix, or not. But it has its own timing. Reframing brought me resiliency.

Stay on YOUR path

Resiliency brings you back. For me, it helps me remember I’m my own authentic person with my own path. I’m not walking down someone else’s. And mine will not only look different than someone else’s, it’ll be in my timing, not there’s. Instead of comparing, I can stay in the space of being inspired by what’s being created by others and not care about the when. Joy and appreciation for my own journey can win. That’s the wholehearted space.

What about you?

Are you walking down your own path, or chasing your ball down someone else’s road? Take a minute and think about it. If the path isn’t familiar, it’s probably yours. Stay on it. Don’t let the shiny things on someone else’s distract you, because you have your own journey to walk out. We’re in this together, friends, choosing a wholehearted existence. Be brave.