Category: Be Brave

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Do YOUR work

do your own workI’m someone who is wired to keep the peace. Not a fan of conflict, would rarely initiate it and if there is a way I can reduce the possibility of conflict for someone else, I sure as shooting am going there. This has resulted, not surprisingly, in me inserting myself into situations in which I should have left well enough alone. And in doing that, I brought myself far more grief and heartache than was mine to own.

Take my kids. When they were young and even as teenagers, I so disliked conflict between them that I stepped into it constantly. Asking them to stop. To work it out. Working it out for them. Showing them that going to me was the answer. As they got into their later teens, they were still coming to me. When I tried to push back on that, it was a little bit tricky, it was a monster I created.

And I did them a disservice. They needed to learn how to work out conflict with each other. It’s part of the ebb and flow of relationships. By taking it on for them, I kept them from doing their own work. (As a side note…they are far better at this now…I am rarely, if ever, called to be the referee).

I’ve been thinking about that concept a lot, the idea that each of us has our own self work to do. As mothers, it’s fairly common to take on burdens for our kids in an effort to protect them, to save them from experiencing heartache. To help them – or at least that’s what we had in mind. But when we do, we take our energy, that we need for our own self work, and give it away. Instead, we do the work they need to do.

It’s like that with anyone, really. If we’re not careful, it’s easy to fall into fix mode. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes that’s ok, helpful. But when it comes to other matters, like relational issues, people need to do their own work – “saving” them from that keeps them from learning the lessons they need to learn, from the journeys they need to take to develop as a person.

We’re doing that our entire life, if we’re lucky. We’re continuing to learn about ourselves, how we show up in the world, interact with our environment and the people in it. Each of us has our individual journey to take. No one can do it for us. Every person you interact with is an opportunity to learn about yourself. I’ll bet there are some people you get along with flawlessly but others the turn your stomach, who you make an about face from when you see them coming. I think that the closer someone is to us the more intense our reaction to them. They get all up in our space and that’s when things get real. In those situations, though, all you can do is your part. The cumulation of your own work. If they’re willing to work on their stuff, great. If they’re not, you cannot do it for them. They won’t learn the lesson and then you’re doing them that disservice I mentioned.

And that can be hard. For all of us. But in order to learn your own lessons, to be your full, authentic self, you need to stay in your own space. Be there to support and encourage others on their journey, but don’t do the work for them so that they can be their own, authentic self. You would think that it’s easy, but it’s not. For many of us, the natural inclination is to take on their emotion, maybe in the form of negative self-talk about what a “bad” person (insert, unworthy, not enough, whatever crappy message you tell yourself, here) you are for not helping, solving, making everything better. Not that I know anything about that…that’s a lie. Letting others do their own work – and doing our own – is part of having healthy boundaries.

What’s one thing you can do today to determine where you are doing someone else’s work for them? One thing, not all the things, one thing. When you figure that out, stop. Do you feel bad about not helping, not doing the work? Don’t. Seriously. Be loving, be kind, but let them do their work – you’re relationship will be better for it and your authentic self will thank you.

 

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Finding my own way

True SelfDo you ever have the big ‘a-ha’ moments? When a bunch of the pieces of the puzzle fall into place all of a sudden? I had that…yesterday. Here’s what went down.

Earlier in the week, I went to a meditation circle – a gathering of like minded people focused on mindfulness. In our time together, our leader talked about several things, one of which was the idea that we each have a journey to live. Experiences we need to have, challenges to face, highs and lows. The degree to which we take those on for someone else, the less they learn what they’re supposed to and the less energy we have for our own lessons.

Couple that with a conversation my husband and I had in the car Friday. We were on a long (so long, painfully long, long, long…you get the picture) car ride and had plenty of time to talk. He and I are different in many ways and we were talking about our wiring. He often roots in facts and what can be proven. Me, sure, facts are important, but I’m more about the feel of things, the vibe. I also have a propensity to want to work things out for myself, to chart my own path. That person who tells me that they have found a product that will solve every problem I’ve ever had? – whatever. The more you push on me, the more I will likely choose not to follow your suggestion.

We use the DISC behavior tool at work and its sister product – Motivators (also called Driving Forces). What I describe above is a component of my Individualistic motivator. I want a say, a seat at the table, to chart my own path.

Stick with me, I’m getting to the a-ha. So, my brain has been swirling around the ideas from the meditation circle and the conversation with my husband. Think of it as mixing around the spaghetti in my head, it’s like that, honestly.

Yesterday morning, BAM – smacked in the head with one of the biggest a-ha’s I’ve had in a while.

It goes way back and answers a lot for me. My mom has always been open to many different ideas. I remember growing up she would find products and be all in. That was back in the day when the MLM (multi-level marketing) concept was in full swing. She sold beauty products that were the BEST – per her (and maybe they were, I had the wall up). She’s also the one who is always going to personal development workshops, there has been walking on fire, really. She would tell me about these products and workshops as if they were the answer, the best thing as if I should be doing it too (at least that was the story in my head).

Enter me. My response to a lot of it? Resistance. And here’s the interesting thing. I put all of it on my mom. I would think it was just one more thing she was doing. When I was young, label this ‘typical teenage response.’ As I’ve gotten older? The pattern stuck.

But here’s the thing…I’m like her in a lot of ways. What finally clicked yesterday was that all those things she does? I’d probably find them interesting today (although I am not walking on fire, no, never, not happening).  I’m exploring many of the same paths that she explored. Why did I resist? It’s the way I’m wired. I want to chart my own path. It was the approach. No fault of hers. I didn’t understand myself enough to realize what was kicking back on the inside. To find a way to take the information and explore it on my own. To come up with my own conclusions. Thinking back to the meditation circle, have my own experiences, learn for myself, let my own journey shape me.

When you have the big a-ha, what do you do with it? For me, it’s part of my authentic journey. Figuring out who I am, who God wired me to be. Leaning into the gifts of that. Not letting fear get in the way of saying what I need and charting my path.

What about you? What is the big a-ha that is rumbling around inside of you? I think we spend the first however many years of our life having life shape us and the second half, the half I’m in, figuring out what happened and how we want to live, to engage with life and others, going forward. My hope for you today is to choose the brave path, the authentic path. You’re not alone, I’m right there with you.

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What doors of your own need opening?

Doors of JerusalemI became fascinated with the doors in Jerusalem during my recent pilgrimage. As you wander around the city, whether on a tour like ours or on your own, if you keep your eyes open, you’ll start to notice the unique aspects of the doors. The colors, the textures, the sizes, the placement. Fancying myself an artsy photographer, I started snapping up pictures as we went along.

But what do I do with a bunch of pictures of doors now that I’m home? As I was thinking about them, a thought popped into my head. I’m choosing to follow it because I’ve learned that usually those thoughts are not accidental. They’re my intuition kicking in – telling me to pay closer attention.

The doors throughout Jerusalem have a story. We can imagine what it would be based on where they are in the city. But behind the doors is an entirely different story that passerby’s don’t have access to.

I thought about the doors in my life and they do just that. They close off access to those I want to keep from being too close to me. In my mind, they keep me safe. Here’s how it would go down. In a situation where I want to keep a person from not knowing certain aspects about me, the ugly parts, the door slowly closes. Same is true when I lose trust or faith in someone. Mind you, I’d say I don’t want to close the door, but it feels safer, more in control. I do this when someone disagrees with me. Slam the door. I want to protect myself, my opinion, my belief, so I close myself off to whoever and whatever pushes up against that. No solicitation friend – take your thoughts elsewhere, mine are staying safely locked inside.

After being on my pilgrimage though, I can’t leave what seemed fine alone anymore. I feel as though Israel was where I felt open. My heart, my soul, were open, receptive. I didn’t feel the need to defend. I felt settled, secure. Maybe you’ve felt like that before, the ‘knowing’ that there’s no need to close doors, to throw up walls. That you’re safe. I felt more connected to others, to myself, to God.

And then I came home.

At first, the crushing jet lag kept me in the open space, honestly, I wouldn’t have had the energy to close anything but my eyes. But it happened. As the week went on, I felt the familiar desire to protect the space around me.

What does it do for us though to shut doors? Nothing. It may seem like the answer, a way in which we can keep ourselves safe, but all it really does it keep us farther away from other people. Not only that, it keeps people we actually care about from truly seeing us, from being witness to our life and to the soft part on the inside. It creates a false sense because the door we close may be ornately decorated while the soft part inside has questions, fears, and, on the flip side, may have creative, bold thoughts and ideas that want to come out but stay hidden behind the door. Keeping others from truly seeing who we are, keeping our beliefs or thoughts hidden may seem like it’s the safe path, but it will never lead to fulfillment or to truly living our authentic life.

That leaves us with a choice. Now, granted, there are some people who we need to close the door on because they are unsafe. But for the vast majority, what would it look like to remain open? To welcome them to know our true self, the authentic, bold one who lives behind the door. We have that choice.

So, you can keep closing doors – or take the braver path and keep them open. Take pictures of doors, but don’t construct them in your life. It may feel scary and that’s normal, it’s ok. You’re not alone – we’re all practicing keeping our doors open. I hope when we meet we’ll be telling each other to come on in.

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Loving others

IMG_5600I’ve just returned from a pilgrimage in Israel. And while I’m sure that my “soul moments”and insights from the trip will trickle out for awhile, What’s on my mind today is our “rest day” side trip to Petra.

Let me set the stage. My folks, siblings and our spouses set out at 3:30 am for Petra, a 6 hour drive from Jerusalem. Our driver was auditioning for the Indy 500 and we made it to the border by 7:30. Nour walked us through the Israeli exit process after which we walked through the few hundred yards between Israel and Jordan. Very surreal. I felt a little like a refugee in this moment. We reached the Jordanian border where we were met by our guide, Hajj. Hajj walked us through the entry process to Jordan like a pro and it was on to Petra. On a side note, having guides to do all that for us is the only way to go!

It was a 2 hour drive to Petra during which Hajj told us about Jordanian life and history. Hajj is Muslim and we visited on the first day of Ramadan. This gave us an opportunity to ask more about the Muslim faith. Much of the foundational history of the Muslim faith is similar to Christianity, with their forefathers including Moses and Abraham. They also believe in Jesus, as a prophet, not as the Savior as in Christianity.

He told us how Muslims and Christians live together peacefully in Jordan. Which is different than how I have thought about the Middle East. He served as such an Ambassador for his country, and for his faith. I say that because he spoke openly, at least it seemed that way, and non-judgementally about the differences between his Muslim faith and Christianity. What Hajj shared with us layered on what I’d already been thinking about, noticing, during our trip. Each one of us is different, but we’re the same.

It’s so easy to spend time looking at how we’re different and miss out on the ways we’re the same. In our rush to “size someone up,”to label them, we can miss the fact that we’re a bunch of people who are often just trying to fit others into the mold that fits our narrative. On the pilgrimage, we met people like Hajj, saw women at the Wailing Wall (women are separated from men at the wall and at any Jewish holy IMG_5471site), I watched little Jewish boys in their school uniforms walking across the plaza at the Wailing Wall, people shopping in the street, Bedouins along the road, selling their scarves, beads, just to feed their family. In each of those situations, it would be so easy to label and judge if you were not careful. Their lives so different.

But why? What’s the point in that? And is that really what we’re called to do? I think not. This pilgrimage, our time with different people, those we met and those we experienced, they moved me, shifted me. When we look at others as people, as actual people, not the label we give them, our hearts are more open. And the same goes for those we may not agree with, just people. When we humanize someone instead of putting them in a box, it does wonders for our hearts and creates bridges to relationships.

I think those relationships are part of the authenticity journey. Showing compassion, love, and genuine concern for others, that’s part of it too. It requires shutting off the fear based voice in my head, the one that yells STOP – that’s different – instead of pressing forward with openness and heartfelt love for others.

Getting back to Petra for a minute, all I can say is WOW! If you ever have the chance, go. It was fascinating, beautiful and the history is so interesting. You can live your inner Indiana Jones, as my brother did, or just simply be amazed at the ancient architecture.

You’ll hear more from me about this pilgrimage, this search into my soul, but today I have a challenge for you. Love each other. Think of it this way, as different faiths were described to me by a woman on the plane. Take a tree and look at the trunk, that’s the core of who we all are. The branches are the ways we are different, but all stemming from same base. I loved that analogy and am running with it. Do what you will with it, but have your own moment today, loving each other. Continue reading “Loving others”

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A parent’s heart

I’m in the middle of my pilgrimage and from the beginning,we’ve focused each day on how it is touching our soul. We’ve been so many places throughout Israel, but I hadn’t felt the stirring of my soul. Inspired, yes, but not the tugging at my soul. But today was different.

Today, we visited the Sea of Galilee and the surrounding sites where Jesus did 90% of his ministry. While on a boat, crossing the Galilee, my heart stirred. It was my mother’s heart, which seems appropriate since I’m writing this for Mother’s Day. I thought about my boys, who are really men at this point, and how they touch my life.

And I thought about the ways that Jesus would have loved them, how he does love them. I thought about ways they may be different, and Jesus still loves them. Just like me, they were created in God’s image, all our children are, and he lives them, no matter what. Now I love my boys, no matter what, but God really loves them. THAT was my soul moment.

I thought about it as the day went on and as we visited more sites. At the end of the day, we visited Magdala. It’s a village that they estimate was developed in the years preceding Jesus’ birth. It was discovered in 2006, and is being excavated, unearthing amazing discoveries! While there was visited a newly built synagogue which had a painting depicting the women who bled for 12 years touching Jesus hem. It only showed feet and her hand touching Jesus’ hem. Our guide reminded us that he called the woman his daughter, showing God’s fathers heart to the woman. It touched my heart thinking that’s how God Love’s me, a hot mess, how he loves my kids and each one of us.

So why can’t we love each other like that? People sometimes don’t love another person because they’re different than them, or they believe differently. But they’re still people. Who are we to love them any less?

That’s been what my heart has been telling me for awhile now. That’s what my authentic self tells me, that’s what I want to live out. And that’s going to mean continuing to love others who are different that me, who might not fit in the cookie cutter from the perspective of their lifestyle. Loving them.

It feels like I may need to be brave at times, but it’s what my heart is calling me to. As a mom, I really love my boys, and I hope that all moms out there feel the same about their kids this Mother’s Day. Life happens and differences arise, but love them, let them know you love them. Just like God loves us, just love. I hope you’ll feel the same friends, it’s simple really, be brave…and love.

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What’s your journey?

my journey is not your journeyI’m going on a pilgrimage. It started nearly six months ago when my stepmother suggested it at Thanksgiving. “We should all go to Israel together.” I thought my husband would lose his mind. I’d known it was on his bucket list for quite some time and he was 100% in from the get go. Me? Well, we’re leaving Monday, and I’m excited, but have spent a great deal of time thinking about the trip and what it is for me.

First let me say that it’s a huge blessing. My folks are taking my siblings and our spouses which is incredibly generous. I know I wouldn’t be going otherwise.

Second, there’s some fear rolling around in there. It’s the longest vacation I’ve been on, the farthest away from home, into a country that is not known for peace these days. And ohhh do I love peace. Not a fan of sketchy situations much less a war zone. So, to say I had concerns over that is an understatement.

The biggest piece of it was working through what my own expectations are. My husband (and 95% of the people who go) is thrilled to be going to the Holy Land. To take the steps Jesus took. To see where the miracles happened. To have the Bible come to life.

And all those things resonate with me too. But there’s something else for me and I’ve wrestled with what it is. I’m not 100% sure, even today, what that something else is with my bag half packed (in my head…note to self, I really need to get on the packing thing). I think it relates to the concept of pilgrimage.

You may be familiar with the Hero’s Journey, it’s the common theme in a broad category of stories that involve a hero who goes on an adventure, and in a decisive crisis wins a victory, and then comes home changed or transformed. That’s the simple version. Joseph Campbell, who wrote about it more than 50 years ago details 17 stages of the journey. What stuck with me was the thought that the journey itself is filled with the unknown. The only thing that’s known is the departure and that there will be a return. What happens on the journey is unknown, therein lies the mystery and the transformation.

It’s Luke Skywalker…the Lord of the Rings…Moses…Lisa Kirby…oh wait that’s me…I’m not going in search of the Ring and am not going to save the galaxy. But could I find parts of me that were untapped, unknown?

Yes. But I must be willing to explore the unknown. I’ve lived a lot of my life staying in the ‘known.’ Making plans, following rules, playing it safe, all those things are in the known. Playing small is also in the known. Not living to my full potential, not stepping into my life’s calling, my life’s purpose, not fully using my gifts and talents, not being vulnerable, that’s all in the known. That’s safe. But it’ sells you short. The hero’s journey was not safe.

My journey is not one of a hero, or if it is, the person who needs the hero is me. That’s what this journey is about. It’s part of my authentic journey which includes living more fully. Stepping into the unknown. Taking the risk. The pilgrimage is the search for moral or spiritual significance that is there for me to learn. And it’s going to be different for me than for others because what I need to learn is different. It’s based on my life and where I’ve been so far. What I’m praying for is to be open to whatever that is. To hold space for what I need to learn and experience.

I know I need to be brave enough, not a superhero, just brave enough to let my authentic self show up. To step fully into the experience and know that I still have so much to learn but I must be brave. Be open, step in with both feet. To experience what’s there for me. My own journey.

What about you? We all have room for the hero’s journey in our lives. The one that takes us into the unknown and transforms us. And a lot of the time, we don’t have to leave home, but we do have to leave what’s comfortable. Transformation doesn’t happen when we’re comfortable. Believe me, I’ve tried. I hope you’ll take time this week to think about your own journey, your pilgrimage. And know that it could come at an unexpected time, but exactly when you need it – be brave – you got this.

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Aging Gracefully

embrace with graceI had the realization this week that I can either choose to age gracefully or to fight it, kicking and screaming in disbelief at the onslaught of mental and physical betrayals that seem to come with age. I guess it’s now clear which one I’ve chosen thus far.

Here’s the deal. I’m exhausted a great deal of the time. I manage to fake my way through it, but it’s always my companion. I’ve worked with doctors, given more than my share of blood to figure it out and the explanation doesn’t lead to a fix. It’s a side effect of a bunch of minor conditions, none of which are life threatening, but together, they pack a mean punch to my energy level. I got to a point this week where I was mad about it.

Ok I was a little more than mad if I’m honest, maybe pissed. And I don’t get pissed easily. But getting there lead me to get in my head about it.

The more I thought about it, I realized that to some degree, the fact that I’m 50 not 30 plays a part in how I feel. Part of my desire to feel “normal,” whatever that is, comes from fighting against the natural process of aging. Though, don’t misunderstand me, I’m not saying that I’m ready to pack it in and get a rocking chair on the porch by any stretch.

But by fighting it, by remaining frustrated (code word for angry), I hold a lot of negative energy inside of me. That leads to an increase in Cortisol, which, when I’m running from a lion is helpful, but having an increased level on a day to day basis leads to many of the conditions which result in the exhaustion I feel.

Fighting the exhaustion is a fight against myself. So is fighting the changes that come with aging. That’s not healthy, period.

It’s a choice. So much of our physical and mental state of being comes from what we tell ourselves it is. I can tell myself that being exhausted is the enemy and fight it, or I can accept it, gracefully. Accept that not having the energy I once did is not a bad thing, it’s just different.

I’ve never been this age before, so I don’t know what it’s supposed to feel like. What I’d like it to feel like is a continuation of strong, healthy, go conquer a mountain toughness. But that’s not where I am. Instead of fighting to get back there, I’m going to make a choice to slow down and look at what life presents me in this stage of life.

Relationships, that’s the first thing that comes to mind. Time to deepen relationships. Reflection and writing, creating, developing those parts of me that had no chance of coming out when I was busy ‘doing’ all the time.  It’s a different phase, not one to settle for but one to embrace. Thinking about my authentic journey, it’s a stage to look at with wonder. Enjoying the different experiences that come with slowing down a bit and looking at life and what living fully looks like at this point. That feels brave.

What are you fighting that is a fight against yourself today? I encourage you to consider what it would look like to embrace it instead of struggle. It could be that making a graceful shift will lead to discoveries you never would have imagined. It’s being authentic with where we are, in this moment. Will you be brave with me?

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Brave Enough

Brave enoughI’m currently reading two books called Brave Enough.  One is a book of quotes by Cheryl Strayed and the other is  Nicole Unice and is a faith based book specifically for women. The focus of the later is on being just brave enough for what’s facing you now, and the book narrates how to do that. I love that idea that you don’t have to be Wonder Woman (although…she is the bomb), instead, you just have to be brave enough for what’s in front of you.

This week, I need to be brave enough for a situation which gave me the opportunity to show a great deal of compassion to a friend. It was a situation which could have gone one of two ways. Either I could have been stiff and unfeeling, or I could lean into it and show the compassion and care the situation deserved. I chose the later.

And later in the day, I was exhausted.

It’s interesting to me that allowing myself to show a lot of feelings can be so exhausting, to be honest. I wouldn’t call myself an unfeeling person, but I think I identify with emotion more than deep feelings. Sad = crying, happy = smiling, but feelings that touch my soul, geez man, can I take a pass? At least that used to be my go to.

But now it’s not. I’m finding that what I feel, I feel deeply. I hurt for other people and on the other side, I’m equally joyful for someone in the right situation. It makes me think about what flipped that switch in me. What shifted me from surface level or maybe a couple layers deeper to punch you in the gut level feelings?

I don’t have an answer.

I didn’t grow up in a family that talked much about feelings. It was often said, “Oh, there’s Lisa, crying again.” And I didn’t want to, didn’t desire to be that person. But I was. Over time, you find that it’s easy to stay at a high level. I don’t even know that I had the skills to describe what I was feeling in a lot of the time.

What I think about that is that it keeps feelings in the dark. It can make certain feelings, grief, despair, sadness, scary and seem unacceptable. That’s what happens when things are kept in the dark. They become like secrets. If no one knows you have those feelings, if you power on through, everything will be alright.

I’ve learned that’s far from the truth. Those feelings you hide? They don’t go away. They’re hidden in the darkness. The only way to move those feelings through your body is to be brave enough and actually let yourself feel. When you bring them into the light, you have the experience – yes, and sometimes it sucks – but they can’t stay dark anymore.

Darkness can’t make the darkness go away, only light can do that.

So that’s my authentic journey this week. I was brave enough. I had feelings and I let the light shine on them. Showing compassion, feeling with a friend who was feeling, it was a lot of work. I wouldn’t choose otherwise, but I was aware of it. And talking it about it here? Well that’s continuing to let the light shine on them. We all have deep feelings. When we share the collective lie that we don’t, that’s when the darkness wins.

I hope you’ll be brave enough to shine the light. Let it show on what’s inside you. Share those feelings with people you trust. That’s how light and love wins.

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Celebration can be tricky

celebrate-yourselfYesterday was my first wedding anniversary…or the seventh…we count both. Marriage can be hard, and for my husband and I, it was, and it wasn’t forever. But through healing, forgiveness and reconciliation, we remarried one year ago. So we count one year, and we count the prior six, we’ve earned them.

 

Leading up to our anniversary, I had a sense that it was a celebration. A big deal. I’ve also learned about my husband that he likes to celebrate and he’s really good at it. I’ve fallen short, something I’m aware of and strive to improve. The tangible stuff I do. I looked up the traditional gifts for seven-year anniversaries, copper, ok, worked that in. We’d planned to go away for the weekend, in fact we are away for the weekend as I write this. Santa Cruz – beautiful setting – awesome hotel – couples’ massage (that was his gift to me – score!) – great dinner. A proper weekend getaway to be sure. Of course, my husband started a couple days ago sending me a gorgeous bouquet to work – gaining him major points with the women at work. He outdoes himself for every celebration.

But for me, something is missing inside me. Not just in this celebration, in every situation where there is genuine cause to celebrate. You can guarantee I was not the mom giving trophies for showing up. Sorry boys. There’s something in how my brain is wired that sees accomplishment as an expectation. To say I am a high achiever is an understatement. At least with things I set my mind to. But celebrating those accomplishments? I basically don’t.

It’s not that I think every accomplishment needs fireworks, don’t misunderstand me. What I’ve noticed though is the feeling I have inside. It’s a flat, “ok, so check that one off.” I think about a comment my Dad made to me a couple years ago. I had decided to walk a marathon (I am not a runner – at all – I don’t even fake it). He said to me, “Do you really think you can’t walk a marathon?” No, I was sure I could do it. “Then why do it?” His comment really summed up my thinking. I knew I could do it. Not because I’d trained or was a fast walking champion, I just knew if I started I’d finish. It was the expectation element. So when I did, it was cool and all, but my inside self was flat.

I like celebrating other people, their accomplishments, their success. Seeing their joy, their pride. Joining in that gives me the warm fuzzies. The part I struggle with is the inner feeling of celebration – maybe it’s a self-pride in accomplishment. Not pride in a bad way, but pride in hard work. Whether I can do whatever it is I set my mind to isn’t the point, I still do the work hard to get there. Case in point, my marriage. It was hard work to get where we are today, that is something to celebrate.

And it’s not about other people celebrating me. It’s the inner dialogue. Is anyone else nodding their heads with me? There is value in celebrating your own success, not to the point of negative pride, but in encouragement. You see it throughout history, it’s even in the Bible.  It seems to me it’s a reprogramming for the sake of self-encouragement. It’s not brushing off accomplishment but taking a moment to pause.

Here’s the a-ha moment. It’s about being thankful. Grateful for the gifts and talents God has given you, given me. Thankful you’ve been able to use them to help others. There’s an authentic part to it, recognizing that your talents, your gifts, they make up who you are.  Celebrate how you’ve been able to use them, and continue to use them, as often as you can. Live in that spirit of thankfulness, gratefulness. That, my friends, is how I’ll choose to celebrate, grateful for my inner gifts that drive me to accomplish crazy things at times. Today, I’ll celebrate my gratefulness for the restoration of my marriage, and for my husband.

What do you need to celebrate today? Do it. Bring a spirit of gratefulness to it and just be with yourself, even if just for a moment. I’m celebrating with you.

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Make your choice

I went to high school in a small town in central California. Other than being a gold rush town, I don’t know much else notable about Mariposa (and I apologize to all who live there for not having other interesting factoids). I rode the school bus down from Yosemite each day and for a bunch of teens, an hour each day was a long way. But the good part was that the school pulled in people from all over the region, and so I met a lot of other kids. There’s just a handful I still keep in touch with and I’m on a Girl’s weekend with a couple of them right now.

I was thinking this morning about the interesting turns our lives have taken. How, starting with the same schooling, we’ve ended up being much different people. One is in finance living inSan Francisco and the other in Alaska, a physician. What led us down the paths to where each of us are right now were choices.

I chose to go to UC Davis and after school, quickly entered the Human Resources field. Not too long after that I got married and had my boys. I’ve stayed in California the majority of the time and now live outside Sacramento, still working in HR, kids long gone, with my awesome husband. Through the years though there have been times when i didn’t really choose the path I was on. I let circumstances dictate what I did or didn’t do, the path I was on. In reality that’s making a choice.

I don’t regret the path, it’s uniquely mine, but I’m conscious of not having chose some of the turns. What I was thinking about this morning while getting a deep tissue massage (essential for Girl’s Weekend), was how not making a choice is still a choice. I differentiate that from making a choice to let someone else decide, for example, where to go to dinner, or on vacation. Passively choosing to let others direct your career would be a whole different story. That’s not making a choice.

The thing about not making the choice is that its easier to not hold yourself accountable. Yeah, sit on that for a minute. It’s victim mentality. Things happen to you, but you are not an active participant in your life. Easier to blame others, but really, it’s not about them, it’s about you (or it’s about me). By choosing not to choose, you decide to give your power away.

I’m making a choice not to do that anymore. The authenticity thing again. Being authentic with myself means making choices. I’m not talking about making monumental choices in this moment, per se, I’m talking about making conscious decisions about the direction life takes for me, as an individual and in my marriage. Making choices that bring more love, kindness, peace and joy into life. Whatever happens from there, I’ll own it, because I chose. It’s being brave.