What makes a leader?

LeadershipIt can be a bit nebulous, leadership. People often assume the title based on a role they hold. A position they’ve aspired to. The pinnacle of a career – leader of people and their charting their own course. Yet, a title alone, a position, is nothing more than that. Being named a leader doesn’t automatically bestow upon you some magical fairy dust where people fall in line behind you. A leader is infinitely more than that.

I’m fairly certain that those who study birth order characteristics find leadership qualities in firstborns. Often, they naturally rise and take charge of situations within the sibling ranks. They create the rules, the systems, the natural order of life among their family and peers. Once in school, they might rise and do the same, taking on leadership roles within the student ranks. Once we leave the cocoon of our nuclear families and school, it’s a whole other ballgame.

While firstborns might naturally be drawn to leader roles, they don’t hold the exclusive rights to it. Traditionally, as anyone grows in their career they grow in terms of power which likely translates to having direct reports. You can watch any old TV show and see examples of a “boss.” I think of Lou on the Mary Tyler Moore show, Captain Steubing on the Love Boat, or how about recent example, Miranda Bailey, the Chief on Grey’s Anatomy. All were in a position of authority and operated as a “boss” to one degree or another.

What the traditional or television versions of a “boss” don’t convey is what it truly takes to lead people.  A “boss” likely has more the mindset of managing rather than leading. I’m a student of Brené Brown and tirelessly read her books, diving deep into the personal reflection that surrounds her work. Leadership isn’t having people do what you tell them to do. It’s not espousing your system of belief and expecting a team to fall in line without question, like lemmings into the sea. It doesn’t happen automatically. That’s being a dictator. Leadership is full of nuance.

Leadership requires vulnerability. The willingness to be open and honest about how what you’re experiencing, even when it sucks. It requires transparency. Having personal values that guide the way you go about your life, at work or at home. Leadership requires courage, which, Brené says in her work, you can’t get to without vulnerability.

Anyone can be a leader, whether you’re leading yourself or leading others. People are seen as leaders out of respect for the way they go about their lives, whether in or outside of work. Leaders are willing to wrestle with the hard decisions, to face their fears and do it anyways. They create boundaries about what’s ok and not ok.  They demonstrate integrity, having the hard conversations, bringing other people with you instead of expecting compliance. If you require compliance, you’re most likely going to see resentment instead.

This notion that you’re not letting someone lead? Or another person demanding that you let them be the leader? That’s not on you, that’s on them. In and of itself that sentiment falls flat. Nobody has to give you permission to lead. By the characteristics you demonstrate in the way you go about your life and treat others you show that you’re a leader. In the same vein, you can lead yourself every day of your life. You don’t need followers in order to be a leader. That’s true whether you’re at work or at home.

The notion that the leader at home or work has to be a man? Well, maybe it is a man. But just as easily, it could be a woman. Or it could be both partners. Being a leader is the way you carry yourself, not based on sex or position. We’re getting better about that, but there amongst more conservative /traditional workplaces and homes, the notion of the male leader is still espoused. It’s something that needs to change. Leadership, done well, can be a bit of a dance, where two people complement each other, both owning their part.

Which is all any of us can truly do in life, own our part. Bring our best game every day. Show up, do the work, be willing to be vulnerable. Lead ourselves first and if given the opportunity, lead others with integrity and courage. And keep showing up and doing the same. It’s our journey, and I’m on it with you.

 

Slow the internal narrative

Conversations in my headIt’s a party! Seriously. Every day. In my head. The left, right, frontal, amygdala, all getting in the mix, spinning in so many different directions I get dizzy. I could label the voices, there are those that are what I suppose other people would be saying, a couple that swirl in ‘what if’ land, a few more that believe they’re in acting school – walking out a variety of conversations and situations at any given time… and then there are those that are quieter. The little girl inside me, the still, small voice of God. Those voices get drowned out most of the time by the others that are arm wrestling for front and center, but they’re there.

I began to hone in on the voices, the tornado of thoughts, a few years ago, realizing that all the noise (because that’s what it is, loud, obnoxious noise) is nothing more than that. It’s not actually what’s happening. It’s easy to convince yourself that the way you play things out in your mind will happen, but still, it’s not truth, not fact. Yet, the voices are so distracting. They can divert us from life right in front of us. In our minds, we can make situations so much worse.

When I started to become aware of the runaway train in my mind was around the same time I began learning about mindfulness. The practice of being present. Of eliminating the distractions so that I can be present with myself or with others in the moment. It made sense to me. But in practice, was not quite a simple as it presented itself to be.

For one, the voices in my mind still would not shut up. Determined to create more stillness, I turned to  meditation. Years ago, I would meditate daily, truly helpful I believe. But it fell away as my time became tighter. To quiet my mind, I tried a meditation app, one that had guided meditation. If someone else was talking, there was a much higher likelihood that my mind wouldn’t. By and large that worked, not entirely, but slowly it got better. I found that 15 minutes a day can be carved out and the stillness has a trickling effect throughout the day.

Another idea I was encouraged to try was eating without distraction. No book, no phone, no TV – even when I was alone. Ummm, seriously? When I was with another person, no problem. But alone? What would I do with my mind? That was the point. Nothing. Focus on the food, the texture, the flavor, the experience.  I started experimenting with it. I can not promise you I’m a poster child for it, but I’m working on it.

Mindfulness would have you stop multi-tasking, which is a sham anyways. You can’t effectively focus on two things at a time. You’ll end up half focusing, or less, on both. I find I have an advantage here because my mind has less capacity to multi-task than it used to. The desire is there, but less so because my brain straight up doesn’t want to work like that. So, one thing at a time.

Ok, so a few mindfulness tactics worked in, and they help. But the internal narrative is still there. The difference is I can see it happening. I began using a strategy last year of naming the voices. Is it the voice of fear, or perseverance, maybe joy? And I would ask myself, what is it trying to tell me? I also started asking the voices questions. What was the little girl in me trying to tell me, to remind me of? Truly listen to what I was hearing.

If we’re honest, most of us have the voices. The question is how can you be the one calling the shots instead of them? What mindful practices can you put in place to quiet them? What are they trying to tell you? Just for a moment, take a breath in, hold it, gently sigh out. Do you feel the stillness? I encourage you to engage that practice, or another mindfulness practice several times during the day and still your mind. And when you’re ready, listen carefully, your wisdom will be ready to talk to you.

 

Be Still

Be StillI recall a time when I could not be in my house without having noise. Usually, I’d come home from work and turn the television on. Not to watch it, but to have the background noise. To have silence felt deafening and uncomfortable. Uncomfortable with my own thoughts, which could simultaneously be headed in a hundred different directions and reminding me of the ways I needed to do better, do more. I can recall visiting my mom’s house and there was no television, no music, nothing. Silence. It felt oppressive.

Over time, the balance has shifted and now, my preference is quiet. In a way, it’s a chance for my mind to stop being over stimulated. Which, let’s be honest, happens to each of us every single day. If we’re not listening to something, we’re viewing. Our phones provide non-stop entertainment and options. Literally, every second we’re awake we can be occupied somewhere other than within our own mind.

There are days where that’s honestly the preferred alternative. Our thoughts meander in a million directions and being alone with ourselves can be intimidating.

But…

The advantages to being still are immense. Consider a few: increased immune function; lowered blood pressure; lowered heart rate; increased awareness; increased attention and focus; increased clarity in thinking and perception; lowered anxiety levels, the list goes on. If we know the benefits are there, why are so many of us resistant? Seriously, I desire to be still, to be mindful, but I have to consciously focus to simply eat breakfast without simultaneously checking my email. Mind you, not if someone is sitting across from me, but if I’m alone, multi-task is the name of the game.

Except that multitasking is a scam. Held out as a skill, it’s virtually impossible to effectively multi-task. Our attention is not fully with either task, not our best work. So why do so many of us continue to juggle so many balls in the air? Wouldn’t it be better if we narrowed in on one thing at a time?

Be still. Several times within the Bible we’re told to Be Still. It’s as though we’re being told to ‘take a breath,’ ‘slow down,’ a command to remind us that God’s got us. If we don’t take time to be still, we miss that. Our own thoughts, activities, drown out the inner stillness that comes from being alone with God. Alone with ourselves. With our dreams, with our desires. We miss connecting with that part of ourselves because we’re busy. Miss the still small voice of God because we’re busy all…the…time.

Over the last few years, I’ve consciously begun practicing stillness. And you know what? I love it. Love being alone with myself. Not because I don’t want to be with other people, but because I like being alone. Later today, I’m headed to a one-day women’s retreat held a few hours from my home. I chose to come over a day early so that I could have alone time. Could take a breath and be still. I’ve gone away for an alone weekend each year for the last few and have found it restorative. It’s becoming easier each year to not overpack the time. And as much as I’d like to relax at home, and I do, it’s not the same. When I’m away, it’s out of my environment. There are no floors to mop, dishes to clean. The regular distractions are removed.

Later today I’ll connect with other women, but last night and at the moment, I’m in the presence of no one I know. Other than ordering coffee, because…honestly…coffee is necessary…I haven’t talked to anyone today. It’s a chance to take a breath. Slow down and be alone with me, with God. I find clarity in the stillness because the cobwebs in my head are brushed away.

If you haven’t incorporated a practice in your life to be still, to silence your mind for moments during the day, try it. It can be as simple as focusing on a word, saying it silently to yourself as you breath slowly and close your eyes. Or it can be focusing on a symbol an object you love and letting your eyes rest on it, breathing in the beauty. Being still. Each of us could afford a few moments in the day to be still and connect with ourselves. You’ll find when you do, the inner connection will carry with you through the day. Take a breath friends, listen to the still small voice and know, you’ve got this.

 

Touch a heart

Touch heartsBeverly Hills 90210 was the TV show when I was in my early 20’s. The hairstyles, the romance, the drama. It was beyond easy to stay hooked in and watch the train frequently head off the tracks. So, when I learned this week that Luke Perry, who played one of the main heartthrobs, Dylan McKay, died after a stroke, I nearly shed a tear. What struck me most is that he was only a year old than I am. Far to young to be dying. This death, coinciding with an awareness that others my age are more frequently having serious health issues, made me stop and think.

Maybe it’s also my age, the tipping point where it’s not uncommon to start taking a deeper look at life. I don’t hide the fact that I think, and think and think, about life. I show up each day and do a job, I have relationships, but there’s an intangible element that I long for. A common thread shared by people of all ages, not just this midlife season I find myself in.

I desire to make a difference.

And not at a surface level. I have a longing to impact lives, people’s hearts. To spark lasting change in someone’s life so that they feel loved, believe that they matter. Believe they are loved by God. Each and every one of us is loved by God, and each and every one of us matters.

Why is it that it takes death, or illness, or tragedy to remind those of us who are well to take a deeper look? It’s easy to fall into our ruts and live out our lives stuck in the day to day. Not only can we make a difference in other people’s lives, but we can also make one in our own. The patterns we fall into are comfortable, easy, but can lead to falling asleep to our lives. To the bigger purpose we’re here for. To the great, BIG life that’s right in front of us.

So what to do about that? How to make a difference now? Get uncomfortable. Step out of your comfort zone. Be kind to the people around you, even when you don’t want to. Skip complaining and focus on gratitude. Do something BOLD, BRAVE that comes from living your authentic life. We only have one, and it matters. You matter. Whoever you are and whatever your circumstance, you matter. To the people around you and to God. Every single one of you.

What sparks your joy?

Tidying UpI finally did it. I’ve watched episodes of The Art of Tidying up with Marie Kondo. I’ve talked about it. I’ve encouraged others to do it. I fully embraced the idea on behalf of other people. In fact, I embraced it within my own home…everywhere but my closet. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Let me take that back, I did, but not the full, throw your clothes in the middle of the room and start from scratch version.

Until yesterday. I was having breakfast with a girlfriend who has done significant cleaning out of her closet. She spoke of how freeing it was. How happy she was to enter her closet in the morning and not spend hours debating what to wear. I recall reading during the Obama presidency that Barrack had a standard look, nearly always wearing the same style and material — a two-button, single-breasted suit jacket and single pleated pant with inch-and-a-quarter cuffs. It was called “The Obama Suit.” He’d mix it up by switching his tie, blue or red. That’s it. With the number of critical decisions, he had to make each day, he said he wanted to eliminate what to wear from the equation. If the leader of the free world could simplify his wardrobe, there was hope for me.

I was finally convinced, or maybe better said, resigned, to ‘Sparking Joy’ in my closet. (If you’re unfamiliar, Marie says to hold each item and ask yourself if it sparks joy.) Admittedly, I have an attachment to my clothes. I converted a spare bedroom into a Diva Den/ closet…it’s my happy space. I have enjoyed procuring my wardrobe. The sales, the deals, the beautiful items. But over the years, even though I have cleaned it out here and there, I haven’t really combed through and given away the items that don’t serve me.

As I piled the clothes into the middle, I felt growing stress in my gut. I twinge that I was betraying them. They’d waited patiently to be worn, some longer than others. In Kondo’s method, you pick up each piece and decide if it sparks joy. If not, you thank it and put it in the giveaway pile. I put on my jammin’ girl anthem songs and got going. The fact that my anxiety level was mitigated only by dancing around my room told me I needed to do this. I discerned if I was feeling joy or was it just reflux with each item.

The giveaway pile grew and eventually I made it through everything on the floor and moved on to drawers. In the end, I amassed what I’d call a good-sized pile to give away. When I was done, I thought about the feelings I’d had during the process. The goal for me was to create happiness in my closet instead of feeling overwhelmed by decisions each time I went in to get dressed. Reduce decision fatigue and the body shaming that came from picking out an item only to have it not fit or fit poorly  -#midlifechallenges.

Goal accomplished. At least I think so. I think I still have a hangover from the stress of the process. I know it was supposed to spark joy, and I’m looking for it. Here’s what I know. The desire to reserve my energy for the positive aspects of life is compelling. I’m also weary of the feelings and negative self-talk when I get dressed in the morning. Did I spark joy? I’m going to say yes. Joy because I weeded through the feelings that had held me back from this process. Joy in taking bold steps towards what I want to have in my life.

What will bring you joy? It might not be your closet, but could you make a choice to surround yourself only with people and items that bring you joy? There are so many factors in life that we cannot control, but we can choose to bring joy into our surroundings. Look around you and ask yourself if you see joy. If not – get moving. Spark joy within yourself and then spread it to the people around you.

 

Why have an anthem?

Vulnerability 2For as long as I can remember, I’ve gravitated to music that is big. Ballads, big female voices, dramatic crescendos, swells…think Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, lately a little bit of Lady Gaga. BIG. Songs that fill a room and might leave you crying in a puddle on the floor at the same time. Throughout the years, I’ve found myself drifting away, but always returning to a song, or finding new ones, to put on repeat. When my kids were young, I’d blast it in the car, we’d all be singing along and then…I’d turn it off…catching them mid-song each time…and then we’d laugh and laugh. But even today, they know the words to all the songs. You’re welcome.

The songs I’ve put on repeat over the years have changed, again, Celine Dion is always a leader, but there’s always been one. Lately, This is me, by Kesha has been on the playlist. It’s from The Greatest Showman movie, which, I literally only saw last night. I’ve caught the song, here and there, mainly at women’s events, not surprisingly. It has all my required elements, big swells, compelling lyrics, a dramatic finish. I can’t get enough of it. For the first time, I’ve decided to call a song my anthem.

Anthem’s are nothing new. They arise to provide people with an anchor, something to hold tight, to rally around in unity or in protest at times. But an anthem defined is “an uplifting song identified with a particular group…or cause.” This is me rallies for the underdog, the marginalized, those who are cast aside. While that’s not my story, my heart hurts for people who are overlooked, or marginalized for being who they are.

Maybe it’s because of my own beginnings. As a child with a prosthetic leg, you stand out. Before you think I’m going down a traumatic tale, I’m not. But, you stand out. People look at you, other kids, adults. And they ask questions. Today, I roll with all of it, but as a child, or a young teen, all you want to do is fit in, and you don’t.

I wish I could understand the component of human psyche that explains why some people struggle to be in proximity with different. We are all different, to varying degrees, some of our differences are simply visible. But whether internal or external, different is only different. It’s nothing else. It’s not less.

That’s what I notice, the tendency to hone in on less, to pinpoint the difference and label it as bad, or wrong, or weird. This can be viewed as a form of deflecting, we judge in others what we are uncomfortable or unhappy with in ourselves.

My heart breaks for people who find themselves in the margins. I could say “because I’ve been there,” but only from the standpoint that I know the feeling of having people stare. I’ve been fortunate to have people remind me I’m loved, but that’s not always the case. That is where my heart hurts. Maybe that’s why I love an anthem. It’s a rallying point. This is me was a rallying point in the movie for the sideshow, people who were in the circus solely for their difference. Even then, despite the draw, they were kept in the shadows, until they weren’t.

The song, my anthem, embraces the individual, just as they are. Just as God created them, created you, created me. Will you be bold enough today to do the same?

Keeping the peace

Everything's gonna be alrightI often let a thought spin around in my head, almost like a ball on a roulette wheel. The idea will spin and spin and when I least expect it, click into place. I wrote about taking a class on the Enneagram last week. Some of the information was new, but not all. I’d been researching the tool for a while. The idea that rolled around in my head related to what is referred to as the “childhood wound,” of the type.

For the Enneagram 9, which is what I typed as, it’s “if everything around me is ok, I am ok.” It can lead to being a peacemaker, mediator and generally keeping life around you calm. I can completely relate. Figuring out where the “wound” comes from isn’t necessarily important, it’s the story we create for ourselves to make sense of the world around us. What’s important to address is the lasting impact.

What clicked for me the other day was that I have, not infrequently, put myself into situations where I knew on the frontside the person I was talking to had opposing views to mine, and in my mind I always though, “It’s going to be alright, we’ll figure it out.” What I realized is that, those situations always worked out because I stepped aside. Meaning, the belief or thought that I had took a backseat. I either abandon it or set it aside for the sake of keeping the peace.

Oddly, it’s a different story at work where I navigate opposing views regularly. The difference, I think, is that I’m operating as a healthy version of the 9 at work. In my personal life, the difference is too close, the risk of upsetting the harmony I crave to great. So I play small. I don’t speak up. I’m silent when I need to use my voice. I turn inside myself and risk withdrawing.

I share this because I doubt that I’m alone. Women, in particular, acquiesce. We keep the peace, in our homes, with our family, with our children, our spouses. It’s a wiring. Which isn’t a bad thing. But if we’re keeping the peace at the expense of ourselves, our own ideas, beliefs and opinions, it’s not healthy. I was told once by a therapist, when discussing my people pleasing tendencies, that if you are always focused on pleasing others, you’re slowly giving yourself away. That results in resentment and a slow erosion of your essential self. That’s not God’s plan.

There are times when we might compromise, that’s part of normal living with other people. But I’ve come to realize that if you are compromising on your core beliefs, the essence of who you are and what you believe in, that’s a different story. Compromising on where to go to dinner is another ballgame.

So now what? Has any of this struck a cord with you? If it has, you may need to look at how you construct your life and how “everything will be alright.” Maybe, you could try on, “this part might be difficult,” or stay in the tension when you want to back down and silence your heart. What I hope you’ll do, is to stay true to who you are. Your beliefs and opinions are equally important to anyone else’s. I pray that you will not forget that and that you will stay strong as the person God made you to be.

Becoming who you are

Let go of youI find personality tools to be fascinating. Ways to learn more about myself and other people from different perspectives. I recently took a workshop on the Enneagram. If you want to get straight to the heart of how you’re wired, dip your toe into this tool. I sat in a cramped room, snacking my way through a fire hose of information for four hours. Literally, an immense amount of information. Enough to scare away someone who hadn’t read about it ahead of time. Thankfully, I had.

In a nutshell, the Enneagram is a framework to give us tools to shed the masks we wear by discerning what is true and original from the false ways we’ve adapted so that our original essence can emerge. Strip off the masks and get back to the true self God made you to be.

What’s hard for some is seeing the ways they’ve adapted to survive the world around them. You must be willing to see that, even in an idyllic childhood, each of us had to cope with something. You may not have had a tragic childhood, or maybe you did, but you had unmet mental and emotional needs that resulted in the development of coping mechanisms. The coping mechanisms are what evolve into our adult personalities.

Over the last few years, I’ve spent endless hours reading, learning, to understand myself and my wiring. It’s not purely for the sport of it though. Nor is it to look back at childhood or earlier life experiences and criticize them or use them as an excuse. It’s simply to understand so that I can make informed, different decisions in my life. The Enneagram is one of the tools to do that. Where people make a mistake is believing it, or any other tool, is the end all be all. We are not one dimensional. God didn’t make us that way. He is not one dimensional and we’re made in his image. There’s more to each of us than meets the eye.

That said, the Enneagram explained what I already knew about myself. I desire harmony, to live in peace. Doesn’t everyone? It comes from a false belief that I’m only ok if everyone around me is ok. Consciously, I know that’s not true, but I also know I’ve constructed much of my life around that idea. My chosen career in human resources allows me to resolve conflict at work, keep the peace. I became a coach to help others resolve inner conflicts. I’ve done it in my life, I mediated my kid’s arguments because it was too stressful to have the tension. But I’ve also avoided conversations for the sake of keeping the peace.

There’s a quote I’ll butcher…”once you’ve seen, you cannot un-see…” that I believe reflects my thoughts about the Enneagram and other tools to understand people, me included. It put words to what I already knew about myself, consciously or unconsciously. I think this mid-life journey is about doing something with the wisdom and discernment I’ve gained with those tools. To ignore that knowledge and be asleep to my life isn’t who God made me to be.

And that life might be uncomfortable. It’s requires letting go of the coping mechanisms I’ve used in order to have true peace, harmony and love. To assert my own beliefs, needs and desires even when they might cause tension. Trusting that the peace I desire comes from God and there’s room for me to be myself in His vision of my life. It’s getting back to my authentic self, not someone different, simply the me that’s been in there the whole time. Is it a bold move? Maybe. But that’s the journey I’m on.

Learning to say No

no is completeLast month, I was part of an event with the Willow Creek Association. During the one-day event, 7 segments were recorded, different facets addressing abuse and harassment within the church. On Thursday, I received the recording of my portion, in which I gave practical advice for preventing harassment within the workplace.

I was specifically asked to review it and give feedback on any changes prior to the release to over 800 churches and non-profits this week. I felt my stomach knot up, major cringing. Let’s get real here. I was confident about the content, but it meant I had to watch myself, for thirty minutes! In normal circumstances, that’s a hard pass, but I had no choice.

So, I watched it. And I didn’t die. In reality, I was surprised, encouraged even. Speaking in front of people isn’t a challenge for me, it was having to watch myself that was a nightmare.

My favorite part was during the Q&A at the end where our host, Liz, asked me questions from the audience. In response to one of her questions, I simply said “No.” Of course, after a beat I added more, but the simple answer was no. Honestly, I burst out laughing watching it, I don’t know why it tickled me so much, but it did.

And I was thinking about that answer this morning, reminded that, in fact, “No.” is a complete sentence. We share an inherent tendency to add more, as though explaining our No, is a requirement. It’s not. And it’s that word that we need as we discern our way through our own lives.

It’s beyond easy to say yes, constantly, and find ourselves entrenched with more on our plate than is reasonable. I listen to the “For the Love” podcast with Jen Hatmaker and on this week’s episode, she interviewed Emily Ley, an author and creator of The Simplified Planner! At one point, Emily was talking about the process of simplifying her closet and how hard it is to let go of what no longer serves you. My ears perked up because since I started watching The Art of Tidying Up with Marie Kondo on Netflix, I’ve been one step away from using her method. But the mere thought of piling all my clothes on the floor and holding each one to determine if it brings me joy…brings me no joy. Anxiety is what it brings me.

Emily shared that she has someone in her life, a helper, who is her “No mentor.”

Ok, wait, she’s on to something. A “No mentor?” Think about it. You have someone who you trust, but who has no attachment to your stuff. Whether it be your clothes, your interests, your pursuits… someone who is objective. She explained that she calls her No Mentor when she’s, for example, weighing two career opportunities. Her mentor can remind her of the path she’s on, and of what aligns with that. And as a bonus, can help in the closet.

I 100% love this idea. Not only for my closet, but to sort through the wide variety of topics that pull at my attention. Life truly is a balance of holding on and letting go. If we hold on to everything, it becomes unmanageable to pursue the important areas well, the areas that bring us the most joy and allow us to maximize sharing our gifts with others.

While I don’t have a No Mentor (but am going to think more about that idea), I think being able to prioritize for our self is an important skill. Like any skill, you must practice, but it can be improved. Maybe my amusement watching myself give a simple No was simply because I had actually let No being the answer for once.

Is there somewhere, something you need to let go of to focus on the right thing? Where  can you say no – without any further explanation – to an ask, a path or choice or relationship that no longer serves you? It’s an act of self-love to prioritize and preserve yourself, your time, your energy. It’s bold – and I’m all about being bold this year. So, without fear or remorse, where do you need to say No today? Do it, and remember, you’re loving yourself in the process.

Midlife Awareness

img_0198 (1)I am the oldest child and have all the type A characteristics that come with it. Oddly though, my birthday is late in the year, which made me the youngest among many of my friends growing up. I was four when I started kindergarten and only 17 when I stepped foot on my college campus. It presented a dichotomy, oldest at home but youngest in day to day life. I’ve thought about the contrast lately as I’m mentally turning a corner. Still the oldest child, no longer the youngest of my peers, and in the middle of my life.

People talk about midlife with a negative slant. But I’d disagree. For me, it’s a time of change. Paraphrasing Brené Brown… Midlife, it’s when the Universe shakes us and says ‘stop messing around, use the gifts I gave you. If you’ve read Brené you know she would have said that saltier than I do, for good reason, emphasizing that many of us have walked along beside our life to this point. We’ve let it happen to us, and in our early 50’s (plus or minus) it’s as though we wake up.

I know I have. It wasn’t at 50, more like the late 40’s. My question was ‘how do I want to play this out?’ I entered a career by default out of college and stayed it in. Changed employers a few times, but never changed my field. But I started to feel there was so much more. Gifts that I had which were lying on a shelf, dusty. A slant towards connection, creativity, writing…passions that I’d pushed aside for responsibility. Safe, secure, staying the course that others had laid out for me…until I started to question it.

I can see why it’s called a midlife ‘crisis.’ When you take your life and throw it up in the air to see what sticks, yeah, that can look like a crisis. Your body starts to act out…aches, arthritis (it’s no joke), hot flashes, fatigue. What…the…heck?? You talk about the quality of your sleep instead of the latest mountain you’ve conquered, realize that you can’t eat fries like a teenager anymore. Maybe you buy a sports car…I’ve heard that’s a thing… or embark on ways to ‘discover’ yourself.

I can’t help but wonder if the ‘crisis’ comes from not knowing how to navigate our true self. Stay with me. By the time we hit this time of life, our roles start to change. The self that we presented to the world starts to fall away. Our kids are in various stages of adulting, some of us may have parents who are starting to have health challenges (personally thankful I don’t have this one yet), we may find ourselves questioning our careers – how we want our work life to look. We might also start to discover creative passions. I know I have. Looking at our life free of the parts that defined us, shaped us for years, wondering what’s next, the questions can feel overwhelming, like a crisis.

Or, we can look at this phase of life as an awakening. We’re old enough to honestly look at our lives, discerning enough to weed through the parts that aren’t working and put those aside. At the same time, we are wise and have the freedom to explore our gifts, the talents we shelved when we were in the weeds earlier in our lives. AND (this is one of my favorites), we care far less about doing what everyone else thinks we should. Now that is freeing in and of itself.

Midlife awakening, boldly stepping into the next phase. Claiming it, embracing it. Ready to live out our authentic lives, knowing they may or may not look different than they have. Loving ourselves through it, embracing our gifts, and sharing those with the world. It’s your bold life, my friend, live it fully.