Lane Lines or Open Water?

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I’ve mentioned it before, but I am a swimmer.  And if you’re a swimmer, you know that lap swimming involves staring at the bottom of the pool for however long you’re out there.  In the lane where I swim, and in most lap pools, there’s a line at the bottom of the pool that, in my case, helps me make sure I’m swimming straight.  Given that my swimming can be a little bit crazy at times, I value the line, keeps me on the right path.

But I also swim in open water.  When I swim at the lake, I think that a GPS picture of my swim would look like a squiggly line.  I sight often and try to stay straight, but for the life of me, that doesn’t seem to happen.  I veer to the right, then the left, but never really in a straight line.  Now, I like doing things right, which in this case would mean swimming straight, but if I’m being honest, I’d have to say that I really like swimming in the open water. It’s always beautiful, the air is fresh, no chlorine and I’m outside, which I would rather be any time. The factors I love tend to outweigh the fact that I feel like I must look like I’ve been drinking and that there could be sharks…ok not really, but I still think about it.

I’ve been thinking about swimming compared to the way I operate in my day to day life.  Gotta say, my set point is to follow the line.  I follow the rules. I want others to follow the rules. I play the responsible card, all…the…time.  Sure, it’s predictable and there is some comfort in that. For anyone, right? You operate in the comfort zone, play small, stay safe. Ends up being tasks before people. Before you know it, you’re living in a super clean, organized, house, all your bills are paid, you’re doing well at work, but you wake up one day to realize you are bored and…alone.

With the straight line, you get stuff done.  In the pool, I’ll crank out my yards. Back and forth, the pUnderwater lane lines.jpg.opt479x270o0,0s479x270predictable path. Open water? I’m zigging and zagging and don’t swim as far as in the pool, but it’s so beautiful!  Open water is where the adventure is.  And I’m realizing that I want that for my life.  I want the open water. I want to explore. To take the unknown road and discover something I may have never found otherwise.  It’s a way to find new passions, to actually, fully, experience life instead of staying in my lane. To focus on people, not tasks, and people can be zig zaggy too, but I’m willing to take that chance. To share those adventures with someone I care about, to make memories.

So I’m making that promise to myself, to live in the open water. And I’ll be honest, it scares me and really, that’s ok.  I encourage you to think about your own life, where are you swimming the straight line and where are you in open water?  If you’re not getting in the open water, why not try?

What would you do if you knew you could not fail?

IMG_2909This quote, by famed minister Robert Schuller, is used all the time in inspirational quotes or speeches.  I’ve always liked it and was thinking about what I would do today during Paddleboard Yoga.  Stirring around in my head were happy memories from going to Boulder for the weekend and other adventures I still have on the drawing board in my head but on which I haven’t made a move.

I tend to think that I hold myself back from taking action, from taking risks, because the thought of failing gives me a fairly heavy dose of anxiety. No kidding, I strive to do things which I know I can accomplish.  Things that are dependent only on me. It’s why I like individual sports.  I’m responsible for my performance, for how well I “hit the bar.”  I can be like that at work sometimes too.  While I’ll always say yes to a project, I make darned sure I will succeed.  While the thought of working collaboratively with others makes sense to me, and, in concept, is something I want to do, push comes to shove, I’m taking that puppy over. I realize this isn’t my healthiest thought pattern, but I own it.  I work on it.

This morning I was doing SUP (Paddleboard) Yoga, which I love. It’s hard, my balance is not fantastic, and today I was really wobbly.  I had the “opportunity” to cool off several times when I fell in the water. I’ve done SUP Yoga 4 times now through REI.  Each time, the main instructor is Dyanna, who is awesome and who encourages me to try hard balancing poses.  The last couple of times, I’ve been trying to do a headstand.  Tried again today… more opportunities to get wet. Today in the midst of my efforts, the other instructor, Megan, told me to think about the journey not the destination. Another familiar quote, but one which always resonates with me.

And something clicked for me.  It wasn’t the headstand, no, that’s well photo documented as not happening yet. What clicked is that I was trying something which, in all reality, I had a high chance of failing. (In my head right now and at that moment, mic drop) I tried, knowing the headstand is thus far elusive to me, and nothing bad happened.   I took risk, I fell, and nothing bad happened. No one mocked me, I didn’t get hurt, I’m not on the SUP Yoga blooper role. Instead, I got encouraged for trying.  I was proud of myself for merely making the attempt.

I thought about some of the other areas lately where I’ve been brave, taken a risk, and maybe failed a little, but still tried.  And the world hasn’t stopped.  When I went to Boulder, I had a great time, after having an anxiety attack standing in the Denver airport and nearly starting to cry.  But I pushed forward. I’m in my class to become a certified coach, and it’s hard, and I feel like my first peer coaching session was a hot mess, but I’m pushing forward. I had a really hard, honest conversation with someone last week, and I don’t know where that will end up, but I was brave and I put myself out there.

In my head I so often think that I don’t take risks, that I keep myself in a safety bubble or safety zone. But now I don’t think that’s really true.  If I can shift my mind to think of things I’ve tried, maybe failed, maybe not, but that I chose to experience nonetheless, couldn’t that go on the win side in my mind?  If I could remember that even if a small part of the adventure is hard, or that I might not succeed, like my SUP Yoga headstand, but that overall I was still brave and took a chance, what else might I try? Where else have I had success but let the “fail” become how it’s defined in my mind?

There’s the challenge. I have a choice how I want to define and characterize my experiences.  I can choose fail or I can choose brave and fun and success. In that light, wow! Many more successes, being very brave. So think about it, I’ll bet you are very brave, and that you’ve had a million wins! Make the shift and you’ll see it too.

We all have a little mess…

I was thiHot messnking this week about emotions.  Some people let it all hang out there, no guessing, and others, keep it nice and buttoned up. Emotion is a funny thing. Often times, we’re told not to be so emotional; told to stop crying; big girls don’t cry; told that negative emotion is wrong, or that we shouldn’t show it.  I know for me, anger is an emotion I am very uncomfortable with in myself and others. Sadness isn’t on the top 10 list either. The truth is, I don’t know what to do with those emotions. I think society tells women that anger is not good and that we’re seen as weak if we’re sad, or crying. I’ve tried for a long time to live by that standard.

So how’s that working out for me? Crappy.  I’m not perfect.  Not by a long shot. And stuff makes me angry, and it makes me sad, as well as a wide range of emotions in between.  But what do I do? Push it down, ignore it, redirect, try not to acknowledge it.  I get frustrated, or irritable not angry, and at the other end, I am off, or out of sorts, not sad. Call a spade a spade Lisa, you get angry. It’s not a lot different for sadness.  The deal is, in my striving for perfectionism (oh did I mention that? Yeah, got that going on too), I see those emotions as “less than.”  In my mind, they show cracks, they show that I don’t always hold it together. And I do try to hold it together.  I try to keep them on the inside. But as a result I don’t let people see the “real” me.  That just leads to people knowing someone that I’m not, but if I show the real me? Well fear tells me they might not like me. So I keep shoving the emotion in.

I also think about my perception when I see those emotions in others.  Sadness in others I can understand and have empathy for. Although truthfully sometimes the voice in my head wants to say “suck it up.”  And at the other end of the spectrum, when I visibly see anger, it unnerves me.  Literally, it causes me to feel enormously anxious and for knots to form in my stomach, even if it’s not directed at me. I wonder in my head what could be so wrong that you show that much emotion, that you would let anyone see you be angry. It’s seemed out of control to me, because, well, if you were a “good girl [or guy]” you wouldn’t let anyone see it.

I’m learning more and more that hiding my true emotion doesn’t help anything. I’ve experimented with letting myself show sadness, show that vulnerability, the tears.  But it wrecks me.  I’m exhausted. But I’m no less exhausted by trying to hold it all in.  I’m starting to wonder if the people who show their emotions might be on to something.  They’re being authentic. Showing how they really feel. That said, I think there’s a balance between expressing how you feel while respecting those around you.

In the end, I’ve concluded there’s nothing wrong with showing emotion. I know that when I share my emotions, by and large I end up feeling more at peace. We’re all on a journey and whether you see emotion on the outside or keep it tucked away on the inside, it’s still there.  So we, I, need to remember that.  Emotion is not bad, or wrong. Refusing to show emotion? Well that just keeps me hidden and “safe” but not known, not really understood.  I’m choosing to show up, to let people see who I really am, cracks and all.  It might be messy, but at least I’ll be true and real in the mess.

And then? I can ask others to help clean it up with me.

Knowing the difference

Here’s a few things I know about myself.  I like things the way I like them, I’m fussy – truth. I can be a little tricky, much more of a daisy than I’d like to own up to. I like playing pretty and my eyeRoyal Arch Journeylashes. I love my early mornings of journaling and coffee at Starbucks.  I’m a neat freak, trying to reform, but ask my kids, it’s a real thing. I make the bed, every day. I floss, and use mouthwash, leftover food taste in my mouth – that’s not happening. I arrive early for appointments, or when I meet people – it’s polite.  I don’t like anger as an emotion in me, it doesn’t happen.  Frustration happe
ns, irritation happens, but not anger (yes, I know I’m splitting hairs). I am independent.  I am an athlete.  I am passionate about athletic fitness – not gym fitness necessarily – but fitness outside, in God’s beautiful creation. I am emotional, I cry sometimes and sometimes more than others.  I care deeply for people and want the best for them.

I also know that I am ok being alone.  I like it, to some degree.  I can do what I want to do, or not do, when I want to do it.  That’s an adventure I’m on right now.  A weekend alone…away from home. Wait, what? The away from home threw me for a loop.  Maybe I’m ok being alone in my realm at home, with my home base to go back to when I make day trips.  It gives me security.  This trip was brave for me. I came to Boulder alone on Friday and have to be in Denver Sunday afternoon for work.  It was the perfect time to make a little side trip.  I was packed and good to go.  But when I arrived, I felt overwhelming anxiety.  What was that about?? I made myself push through it, and it’s been hard.  Saturday I hiked for hours and it was beautiful, and I was at peace in nature, like I often am. Afterwards though, my not so friendly friend anxiety tried to come back. I’m aware it’s there, but I’m trying to blow it off, or at least make friends with it so it doesn’t get in my way.

All those things I know about myself, I like them – tricky stuff and all, I like being alone – sometimes, so why do I feel like this on a weekend where I’m working on being brave? I think what I’ve come to realize over the last couple weeks is that even though I’m ok to be alone, I’m lonely.  All those things I like about me, I want to share them.  I want to be sitting here talking with someone about how much fun today was, how beautiful it is here. I miss that.  It’s something I’m aware of, and I have a lot of thoughts about it that are for another day.

What I do know though is that the feeling I have of wanting to lean in, it’s still there.  I know that sometimes people will think that when you’re alone it means you’re lonely.  But it doesn’t.  I wasn’t lonely for a long time even though I was alone, for a lot of reasons.  I think that in these moments, the best I can do is to lean in to what I have, the family, the friends, the passion. And really, that’s what we all should be doing anyways, leaning in to those we love and care about.  When we do, when we have connection and love, loneliness will fade and we can enjoy where we are – at that moment.

I’m not broken…

I’ve been thinking a lot about the concept of being broken.  It’s a concept many people use to descryou-are-not-broken-72dpiibe out human frailty, our human condition as a result of all that life brings.  I hear a lot, particularly at church, that we’re all broken…and I rally against it.

Now don’t get me wrong, that’s not to say that I haven’t had a lot of “life,” a lot of things thrown at me, and a lot of things I just straight up stepped in. I’m not saying that I’m perfect by any remote stretch of the imagination.  Seriously.  I am constantly examining myself, looking at my thought processes, my reaction, my own behavior.  I feel like a train wreck half the time.  And I work on it.  I seeking counsel, counselling, and advice from people I trust.  I pray and I ask God about it.

I feel like the experiences I’ve had, my choices – good and not so good – have made me who I am. I believe the constant examination, though exhausting at times, leads to discovery.  The constant chatter and voices in my head are still there, but I believe I’m gaining on them.  I feel better able to call out when I’m letting myself go down a dark and dreary path and make a different choice.

But back to my original point, even though I know I’m made up of pieces that have been shattered, reassembled, readjusted and redesigned, I still fight against being broken.  To me, there’s judgement associated with being broken, like I need to be fixed. To be honest, my self-assessment only recently led me to this.  It feels like broken is a state of being wrong.  And I wonder to myself why I look at it that way. Is it the way people have said it to me? Is it my own inner voices telling me that it’s a wrong way to be?  I don’t know that anyone has ever told me it’s wrong, or bad, or not where you want to be. But I know I’ve said to someone close to me that I was not broken, that “I just wanted to be.”  Even in saying that though, “just being” is a constant state of work, yet somehow it feels like a healthier place to start than broken.

I think a lot of times we (ok, me), attach our own meaning to words, to experiences. Wouldn’t it be easier if we didn’t feel the need to define, because defining often involves a degree of judgement?  And that’s exactly what I’ve felt when referred to as broken.  Instead of making it the line in the sand, I could have chosen to not make any judgement about the word or what I thought was the meaning at all. I could have chosen to hear it and ask questions to understand. I could have tried to understand what drove the message instead of discounting the messenger. Maybe whether I’m broken isn’t really the point at all and it’s really more about leaning in, and leaning on someone else, leaning on God.  Something tells me that’s really what comes from being broken anyways.

Moving past the clutter

Last weIMG_2819ekend I was in the San Francisco Bay Area for the first module of iPEC’s Coaching Certification training.  An awesome weekend where I experienced a sense that what I was doing, learning, experiencing, was on track with my gifts, talents and the purpose God has for my life.  I came home on a high that lasted all week – gotta love that!

As I always do, I think a lot about life, even in the midst of my training.  Didn’t hurt that because we practiced coaching throughout the course, I felt like I was in therapy all weekend – I thought my brain would explode.  On Sunday morning, I left my hotel early for a walk along the Bay Bridge Trail which I’d discovered on Saturday, it’s my favorite way to start the day!  I love new adventures and I think it’s super cool to walk over the Bay.  I’ve done it on the Golden Gate Bridge, so the Bay Bridge was calling me.

I had about an hour and a half to walk so I could get back and ready in time for class.  No sweat (well, there was sweating), 6 miles-ish and that would certainly get me at least halfway across the bridge from where I started. One of the things I was excited about was walking on the new span of bridge that opened a couple years ago.  Off I went and after making my way through the maze under the freeway I was on the bridge.  If you don’t live around here, you may not know that after they opened the bridge, the next project was to take down the old bridge.  It’s a steel, ugly thing that now is cluttered with equipment used in deconstructing it.

So there I was, on the bridge, walking, walking, walking.  Seriously, when was I going to move past the old bridge and have an unobstructed view from the new span?  Cut to the chase, I didn’t. I ran out of time and had to turn back.

And that was ok.  But here’s what ran through my head.  My life is on a new the bridge, so to speak.  I finally feel like I’m on a path to live out my passion, my desire to help other people, to help them move their lives closer to where they want it to be.  Making choices instead of letting life just happen to me. But as I walk on that new path, the bright and shiny path, I’m not free from the clutter of my life thus far.  Granted, I’m making progress, a lot of it, but it’s still there.  Occurred to me that it’s like the Bay Bridge.  The new span is beautiful and you can walk on it, enjoy it, experience it, but at the same time, you have to deal with the deconstruction of the old span.  They’re making progress on it, just like I’m making progress in my own life, but it’s not gone yet, even in the midst of finding my purpose.

I’m going to get there, I know I am, but it can’t be rushed, it’s on its own time schedule, IMG_2822God’s time schedule.  Trying to move it any faster will just frustrate me, I don’t have control of the timing.  But unlike my walk on the bridge, I won’t turn around.  I’ve made a choice to move forward, and my clutter will be there for a while, truth is, even once I clear out the old stuff, more will appear.  That’s part of the deal and it’s ok.

I’d enourage anyone moving through change, and truthfully, isn’t that all of us in one way or another, to think about the bridge.  To not lose sight of the fact that you’re on the new span – celebrate the fact that you’re on the new span.  The old is still there, but you’re making progress.  It’s one step at a time, enjoy the walk.

Stuck in a Rut

This is one of those times when I have a million things happening in my head.  So I’m just going to see what spills out.  I think it’s interesting to think about how I perceive myself vs. how others see me.  I often see myself as stuck in a rut.  And really, it’s dumb because I know I want to do something different, but I don’t. I tell myself there are many reasons, but in truth, those are just excuses.  I know if I really put my mind to it, I could make change.  So why don’t I?

Well, if I’m going to do something new, I better figure it out first.  I better have all the answers, I better not make a mistake.  Wait, what?  Oh yeah, that’s the perfectionist in me.  The perfectionist knows I’m not perfect, but doesn’t want anyone else to see it, it thinks it’s protecting me.  The perfectionist tells me there are a lot of things to be afraid of.  Tells me I better weight all the risks first.  The perfectionist procrastinates, all to avoid blame, shame, all the feelings that come from making mistakes (thanks to Brene Brown for the spotlight on all that, ugh, why did it have to make that much sense to me!?!?)  I tell you though, the perfectionist is no friend of mine.  I should name it and then every time it shows up, I can tell it to get lost.

This weekend, I’m at a coaching course, learning how to help others realize their potential, work through what holds them back.  The thing about a class like this is you have to/get to deal with your own crap for practice…yay. Three days of working through my stuff. As I go through it, I’m noticing the feelings that come up.  One interesting one is that I feel wound up inside.  Full of anxiety, a nervous stomach, feeling like my heart is racing.  Yesterday, I thought maybe I drank too much coffee, it’s possible.  But it happened again today and so instead of chalking it up to my Starbucks habit, I paid attention to.  Every time we had to do a “practice” exercise, it came up again. What started to click for me is that as I was forced to work through some stuff for the sake of “practice” I had to push past that perfectionism, push past the rut.  It was new.

 

I think that’s one of the things that’s hard about getting out of the rut. It’s new, it’s unknown.  I might not like the rut I’m in, but I know it.  It’s oddly comfortable. But in the rut, I don’t grow.  And if I don’t grow, I die, maybe not visibly, but on the inside.  I know I have to make change and to do that, I have to be able to live in the tension, live in the discomfort that comes from making different choices. I’m learning that no matter what happens, it’ll be ok.  It’s ok even if I make mistakes.  I won’t fall apart.  This weekend has shown me I can move into a space not knowing what’s next.  What I do know is that I’m going to stop moving through well worn rut, and step outside it.  And in that space, I’ll find the fulfillment I want because my choices and path will be driven by my purpose.  So hold on, it’s going to be  bumpy ride.

And oh, Ellen’s doppelganger was at my training…ok maybe not really, but she said I wasn’t the first one to say it.  Kristin was a lovely woman!

Play Through

I think this is a continuation of my DNF stream of thought, it keeps bugging me, wanting to bFollow your callinge told.  I’ve realized there’s a distinction between continuing what I’ve started and playing through when I feel I’m called to pursue something in my life.  It could be any number of things, it’s that calling, that tug on my heart to see what happens.  But man, sometimes I really don’t want to.

It starts innocently enough. That thought that enters my mind, “hey, hello there,” it says, or it’s a memory that comes to mind and I notice it.  I think that’s the beginning, I notice it.  Maybe I dismiss it, but it comes back. Crap.  Then it continues to pop up, and morphs, starting to develop a life of it’s own.  And I want to ignore it.  It might scare me, that’s a good reason to ignore it, I figure.  But it doesn’t work that way.

The calling, the prompting on my heart, it could be any number of things.  It could be going out on a limb and getting training so I can work towards coaching other women.  It could be that urge to call someone I haven’t talked it in a while.  Or it could be something tough that I really want to ignore. Like…asking for forgiveness from someone who has hurt me.  I assure you wanting to ignore that last calling is strong, very strong. I mean, seriously, wouldn’t it be for you too?

This is where playing through comes in.  Sometimes with that thing that prompts on your heart the initial step is only that.  The first step.  And I don’t know what the next step will be.  But playing through means I have to be willing to take it.  Have to be willing to be exposed, to possibly face pain, or to face disappointment. The flip side though is that it could lead to something good, something healing, even though that healing might not be for me, it could be for another person.  I think that’s the thing with playing through, I have to follow, be obedient to it, and it may be for me, or it might be for someone else.  That part doesn’t really matter. It’s the step of faith, in faith…and then I have to let go and wait. I can’t push it. The calling, the prompting, it’ll come back…it’s how God works.  It might say, “ok, good job, you’re done,” or it might say nothing and just fade out, or it could also show me the next step. Either way, I’m going to play through.

 

Surrounded by Mirrors

I spent last mirrorsweekend with my family, which is always a great time.  We are the go, go, go family.  One of the nights after dinner, we sat around the table playing Catchphrase.  If you haven’t played it, do, it’s a ton of fun.  It’s basically charades but using words.  My 8 year old nephew was playing with us and it was his turn.  His clue was “that thing you do when you parents want you to do something you don’t want to do.”  Do it anyways? Obey? Finally someone said, “Suck it up.”  Amazingly, that was it!  So interesting to see an 8 year old perspective of what it’s like when you’re faced with something unpleasant.

I find that I tend to suck it up when “life happens” and is tough.  It’s hard but hey, that’s life.  I don’t tend to be very compassionate to myself.  I’ve written about that before, and even took a great online Brene Brown class about it. I think I have a whole lot more homework to do, because I’m still not getting it very well.

But the other day, I had coffee with a friend who is going through a very tough time.  One not so dissimilar to something I recently went through.  As I sat and listened, my heart broke for her. She shared the struggle she’s gone through and the pain she’s felt.  I was also struck by something else.  It was the similarity in much of what she’d been through and what I’ve been through in the last year.  While not identical, it was marked with a lot of the same pain and sadness.  For her, I felt nothing but sadness and empathy.

Later that night I was thinking about the conversation and praying for her.  It occurred to me that while I felt an enormous amount of compassion towards her, I didn’t feel that some compassion when it came to my own situation.  Instead, I’d made myself suck it up.  Determined not to be a victim of my circumstances, I kept moving forward.  Now, I looked back on that conversation and realized that it had a secondary outcome which is that it was a mirror for me to look at how I’d been treating myself.  It finally sunk in for me that sucking it up wasn’t doing me any favors.  Instead, I needed to give myself a break.

I find it so interesting that we really are surrounded by mirrors.  People who, if we’re paying attention, reflect lessons we can learn about ourselves and our own lives.  Who give us a glimpse into our own experiences and reflect back to us exactly what we need to learn.  These people are rare treasures. I, for one, am thankful for the mirrors in my life, especially this time.  Without even realizing it, she helped me see where I was not giving myself the compassion I needed.  So while it scores points in our game, sucking it up does not score me any points and I’m going to keep trying to not play that card.

 

No DNF’s

DLFShirtThough I suspect most of you who read my blog are athletes, as many of my friends are, I want to share a term used in racing/events. “DNF.” Stands for “Did not finish.” I’ve done a lot of races, rides and events.  Some I thought would kill me they were so hard, particularly some of the ridiculous climbing events on my bike.  It was called the Terrible Two for a reason.  Anyways…in all the races I’ve done, I’ve never had a DNF.

Not having a DNF is not because of any extraordinary skill I possess, I guarantee you.  It’s my frame of mind when it comes to the sports I engage in.  I have never considered quitting an option.  That’s not to say it hasn’t entered my mind, but I never considered it.  Not something I want to do.  I start, I finish… even if it’s ugly.

So the other day I was talking about a new adventure I’m starting…during therapy.  I am particularly excited about it because if I can do the training, I’ll be able to coach people about health and wellness.  Different than being a “coach” but more a life coach with a focus.  I’m excited because for a couple of years I’ve been thinking about how I can help women overcome their own doubts or fears about pursuing what they love, whatever that is, but particularly through sports.  Recently, I reached out to a long-time friend of mine who gave me some great suggestions on how to get going with that and where to go for training/certification.  Things with that are falling into place and I’m praying that trend will continue.

I told my counselor that sometimes I end up thinking about stuff too much, over-analyzing, risk assessing, to the point where I talk myself out of it and that I didn’t want to do that with the idea of being a life coach. He told me that whatever I start, I need to finish.  Not the first time he’s said that to me.  But that was the day I needed to hear it again.  That was the day it stuck.  As I was driving home I thought about that statement and realized that when I’m doing anything athletic, I never DNF. So why would it be any different in the rest of my life?  Why do I allow myself to back out of things that could bring me great fulfillment and joy?

I overthink it, that’s why. I over plan, over analyze, over risk assess.  In doing that, I’m not doing myself any favors.  Instead, I don’t pursue what could end up being a great joy in my life.  I miss out and that’s just a rip-off.

So in this current adventure, I feel determined, I have a strong passion for helping women and this training and certification is a way to do that.  That means I need to figure it out, one way or another and make it happen.  And once I do, I’m going to see it through, No DNF.